This Parody of Life
by Madame Estrella
Summary: Nolanverse, within the BB and TDK timeline. Life is funny in a twisted way, his was even more so. Joker/HQ CH 10: In the end, Harley learns what it means to love the Joker.
1. And if I Could Choose a Place to Die

**DISCLAIMER:** Not Mine, I receive no financial compensation for what I do in my spare time.

**This Parody of Life**

**And if I Could Choose a Place to Die**

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound was irritatingly hypnotic. The tile wall was cool against his aching head. The porcelain was smooth against the pain that was once a body.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The lukewarm water immersed an Earthly form. The dripping water caused small ripples to form disturbing the otherwise calm surface. The energy spreading was minute to a body, undetected. But to the other objects it meant everything. It ruined their steady state throwing it into chaos.

Chaos was something he understood very well. He hadn't invented it, but he had long studied the phenomenon and its effects. A little chaos, an unwanted release of energy could cause a ripple to form in a bath or level a city.

He'd devoted the past few years of his life becoming an Agent of Chaos. It was his calling. It was his real purpose in this otherwise boring parody of life.

He'd lived a meaningless existence until the day he'd returned to his apartment and stopped just around the corner from the building entrance. A small, insignificant decision to light a cigarette and stand outside to smoke had changed the path of his life.

He hadn't heard a sound before the body fell to his feet. Unable to respond in anyway he stared down at it. As screaming, yelling and eventually the call of sirens filled his ears he took in the sight.

The blood slowly spread in a wide pool from her head. It touched and then surrounded his brown shoes. Her lifeless eyes stared into the sky and her lips were parted slightly.

She was his next door neighbor. They had lived beside one another for two years, their lives having never intertwined. He didn't even know her name.

The absurdity that her life had ended at his feet hit him and he let a small chuckle escape his lips. It grew into a hearty, sick laugh and he stepped backward through her blood and looked at the people standing around them, gawking. He laughed and they looked at him shocked. They looked at him like he was a monster. They looked at him like he was crazy.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound brought him back to the now and he opened his eyes a little to see the water pool at the opening of the faucet before gravity pulled it to the surface below.

Everything falls.

"Hey." A voice came softly through the stillness. It disturbed the meditative silence between him and the drops of water.

"What?" He growled only it came out more as a groan.

Fingertips pulled at his right and then left eyelid as a blinding light violated his vision in each eye respectively.

"Were you asleep?" The voice inquired.

"Go away." He spoke with more conviction. She drew a breath and held it as he squeezed his eyelids shut. He heard her climb to her feet and leave the room.

He opened his eyes and afterglow of the light filled his sight. It was a simple, unwanted disturbance. It was chaos.

He raised his hands before his face as he became aware once again that the pain was his. They were rough, calloused and still had blood and paint beneath the fingernails.

He cupped his pruned fingers and dipped them into the dirty water before pouring it over his head. Sweat, dye and paint stung his eyes. He leaned forward and pulled the plug.

He slowly raised his pain racked body to a hunched form and pulled the curtain closed beside him as he turned the water on and pulled the lever to switch the valve to the shower head.

Cold water shocked him awake. He drew a sharp breath and quickly blew it out as the pain in his sides punished him for trying to breathe. He grasped the knob and turned it to warm the water that splashed against him.

Green dye washed down his body in rivulets as he worked the shampoo through the tangled mess in his hair. It smelled like lavender and mint and he hated it. Women had to use these highly perfumed products as if it mattered. The media and fashion shilled their wears to them with the promise that it would make them "feel more feminine" and "drive him wild."

Whatever. He washed his body with her body wash that promised it was relaxing and smelled like eucalyptus. The array of odors temporarily distracted him from his pain as it filled his sinuses with their sickeningly strong aromas. He smelled like a woman, or what They thought women should smell like. He smelled horrible.

He rinsed as much of the scent off him as he could before turning off the water and tearing open the curtain. The hot steam in the air still smelled like "calming, soothing relaxation." He couldn't get away from it fast enough.

He stepped out of the bathtub and dripped on the mat as he studied the floor. 'Where the hell are my clothes?'

She must have taken them.

He grabbed a towel from the bar and carelessly dried himself and wrapped it around his waist. He made his way to her bedroom and pulled back the sheets and removed the towel before he lay down. He closed his eyes as every part of his body punished him simultaneously. If this was what getting old felt like he decided he never wanted to reach that age. This was almost a certainty due to the choices he'd already made for himself.

He heard approaching footsteps.

"If you shine that damn thing in my eyes again, I'm going to break your wrist." He muttered as she stopped beside him. In his minds eye he saw her close those blue eyes and shake her head.

"What exactly Do you want me to do?" She snapped. He heard the fatigue and irritation in her voice. "After being gone for two years you storm in here wrecked, beaten and blown up and you tell me not to help you!"

"I don'_t_ need any hel_p_." He spat as he opened his eyes and took in her angry visage.

"Then why _are_ you here?" She seethed and then bit her lower lip and glared at him. He managed a painful smirk.

"This is just another rest stop on the road to Hell." He said and then laughed. The laughter hurt and then somehow eased the pain. It always did. He laughed harder, louder.

"Screw this." She said mostly to herself as she whipped the sheet back and drove a syringe into his leg and quickly depressed the plunger.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her onto the bed and rolled atop her. He closed his eyes as his body screamed and then laughed again. She wrestled against him as he pinned her down and slapped her face. He began to feel the drugs kick in and blinked his eyes and shook his head.

"Wha_t_, what was tha_t_!" He demanded as he began to slip into unconsciousness. He shook his head again and tried to prop himself up above her. She steadied him with her hands on his arms.

"I'm making you more cooperative, Jack." She said in a soothing voice.

"Don't call me that." He slurred as he lost the fight and slumped onto her, his face pressed against the side of hers. "Don't _ever_ call me that again." He growled into her ear.

One of her hands slid over and gently rubbed his shoulder as the other crept into his hair.

"I missed you." She whispered and then there was nothing.


	2. Worry About You

**This Parody of Life**

**Worry About You**

Harleen Quinzel awoke on her side in her bed exhausted and tied up with her own pantyhose. She lifted and turned her head, moving her body as much as she could to scan the room.

No one but her and her pantyhose tied around her wrists and ankles and as a gag. She let her head drop back on the bed and groaned in frustration. She could hear the sound of the television in the living room and smell coffee.

'Of course, make yourself at home.' She thought and groaned again and shook her head. She knew this would happen the moment she saw his face on the news.

The previous evening, like most lately, had found her on her couch entranced by the news coverage. Harvey Dent was Batman, the Joker was caught and then Harvey Dent wasn't Batman anymore. You couldn't _write_ stuff like this.

After the thirty-fourth play through of the evenings events Harleen was jarred from a daze by the sound of pounding on her door. She stared at it dumbly for a few moments before groggily lifting herself from the comfort of her sofa.

"Okay, I'm coming." She called to her 3AM mystery visitor who continued to pound angrily at her door. 'Wake the whole damn neighborhood why don't you.' She thought to herself.

She looked through the peephole to find it blackened out. She looked at it confused and then another barrage of pounding came. She grabbed her hammer from its place beside the door and then opened it.

She was nearly knocked over by the door as it burst open and someone came rushing in. She shoved the door and it swung closed with a loud crash. She whirled about as her visitor did.

They stood four feet apart, she with her hammer raised in her hand, him with a gun in one and a bag in the other. They stared at each other and then he began laughing. It was that sick, insane laughter that played on the news every night.

"Oh, ho Harley, didn't anyone tell you that you don't bring a _Hammer_ to a _Gun_fight!" He giggled flippantly waving the gun in his hand. He dropped the bag and took a step toward her and stumbled to his knees catching himself on the floor with his free hand.

She stared at him with a furrowed brow as he carefully set the gun down and placed his other hand on the floor to steady himself. Someone else began to pound on the door.

"Miss Quinzel!" Her landlord called. She turned back to the door and slid the security chain in place before opening it again.

"Yes." She said quietly, unsure if any of this was actually happening.

"I received a noise complaint." He said trying to peer into the apartment around her with a concerned look on his face. "Is everything okay in there?"

"Yeah," she replied. They exchanged tired stares and he relented.

"Well, keep it down." He said, still looking concerned. She nodded and then closed the door and dead bolted it.

She let the hammer fall to the ground as she turned back to him. The Joker was standing again and his head sagged as collected himself. There he stood, wearing a long purple coat with his makeup run together and mostly worn off his face. His blonde hair looked greasy and the green dye was mostly sweated out.

"Um, I thought you were in jail." Harleen said. He lifted his head and glared at her.

"Well, I'm no_t_ anymore." He snapped. He moved to take a step and half-stumbled. She rushed over to him and grabbed one of his arms to support him. He grabbed one of her shoulders with a gloved hand and leaned heavily upon her.

He smelled strongly of smoke, sweat and blood. She glanced at his face and saw dark bruises forming beneath the ruined paint and small lacerations on his face and in his hair. She released his arm and took his face in her hands, tilting it up and looking into his eyes. The brown irises ringed uneven pupils.

"You have a concussion." She said concern thick in her voice as she took in the rest of his unstable form. "You need to go to the emergency room."

"This will have to do." He said in an angry tone and he turned around swaying a little and made his way to her small bathroom. Water started running in the bathtub.

'Great,' she thought as she stalked into the kitchen, 'make yourself _my_ problem.' She filled a zip bag with ice cubes and filled a glass from the faucet before heading over to the bathroom.

He was in the middle of undressing as she entered the small room. For a moment she thought about stepping back out and then remembered it was him and he wouldn't care.

She swept her eyes over his body, examining him to assess his injuries. He had bruises all over his body and cuts on his hands to go with the ones on his head. Steam filled the room as he slipped into the scalding water. She walked over and turned the cold water on. He glared at her.

"Perhaps you don't want to boil yourself as well." She said looking at him annoyed.

She pulled a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and shook out six tablets and handed them to him with the glass of water. He quickly swallowed the tablets and downed the water before carelessly tossing it aside. She drew a breath as it merely dropped onto the bath mat and didn't shatter. She sighed and shook her head as she handed him the bag of ice. He tucked it between his head and the corner of the tiled wall. She turned off the water before it spilled over the edge of the bathtub.

"Get out." He snapped giving her a sideward glance and she drew another breath and sighed as she turned and exited.

She flopped back down on the sofa and a 'Breaking News' bulletin flashed on the television.

"_The criminal known as The Joker has broken out of the Gotham Police Department by means of an explosion which destroyed the third floor of the historic headquarter building."_

'Really, The Joker escaped?' Harleen thought and chuckled darkly to herself. 'Breaking News, The Joker blows up the Police Department and then takes a bath in the apartment of a former accomplice.'

"_In an apparent related incidence two warehouses on opposite parts of the city were blown up shortly before the explosion at the Police Department. Our sources believe that the explosions were a diversion to aid the escape of The Joker."_

"_The newly appointed Police Commissioner James Gordon has issued a statement that in the interest of Public Safety the Joker is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Any sighting of the criminal is to be reported immediately. He is not to be approached or engaged in contact in any way."_

Harleen rose and walked back to the bathroom to find the Joker half dozing and collected his clothes from the floor. She went to the utility room and tossed them into the washer then returned to the sofa to watch the footage of the ruined Police Department and leveled warehouses. She kept vigil before the glow of the television and occasionally made a trip to the bathroom to check the Jokers eyes for pupil dilation which always elicited an angry response.

'This is too unreal,' she thought as she poured a glass of vodka from a bottle she kept in the freezer. She threw back the alcohol and savored the simultaneous freezing and burning sensation.

She returned to the sofa and watched the television but her thoughts drifted away as she took in the licking flames. How many fires had they set? How many small jobs had they done?

It seemed so long ago even though it had only been two years. Almost two years to the night when everything had gone so terribly wrong. Sure, the whole arrangement had been strange, dangerous and strangely exhilarating but that night had been when Karma had caught up with them and smacked them down in the worst way.

The aftermath had left her in exile, the rest of the crew dead, and Jack Napier forever changed.

She went to check on him once more before he finally showered and left the bathroom for the comfort of her bed. She went to the bathroom to fill a syringe with a sedative she had pilfered from the hospital where she was doing her residency. She found him lying on his back. Without opening his eyes he threatened her. She snapped at him in anger and he laughed in her face.

He was still the same Asshole he'd always been.

She'd had enough. She was going to do this politely but instead opted to stab him with the syringe and knock him out. He launched himself at her and they wrestled on the bed, him slapping her around hard before he succumbed to the drugs.

She lay there beneath his thin, wiry yet heavy body. She stroked his wet hair and felt his gentle breath on her neck. She closed her eyes and held him. To think that this was the first night they were spending together, crazy. She smiled and gently kissed his scarred cheek. 'She really could have done a better job than that,' she thought as she kissed him from the edge of the ragged scar on his right cheek to his lips. She laid her head back on the bed and smiled; their first kiss.

'At least he hadn't tied her bounds so hard that they hurt,' she thought the next morning after her rude awakening. This was a small comfort he'd afforded her, one of the strange ways he showed care. It was probably because he'd hit her.

"Good morning, Doll," came a voice in her ear. She jumped and her eyes went wide. Had she really been so deep in thought that she'd missed his entrance? Sure Harley, it was either that or he'd finally mastered teleportation, Stupid!

She rolled over as much as she could to find him standing over her, dressed in his shirt and pants. He smirked and lowered a knife to her face and laid the side of it against her cheek.

"I'd say that I'm sorry about, uh, tying you up but you _did_ fire the first _shot_!" He said with mirth and then started laughing that crazy laugh of his. Beneath her gag, she smiled.


	3. Finally Found a Reason

**This Parody of Life**

**Finally Found a Reason**

The Joker flopped down on the bed beside her and lay on his back. She saw him wince which looked even more pained due to his scars. He stared at the ceiling as she shifted flush on her side and adjusted her arms to a less strained position behind her back.

She studied his features and decided that he was still attractive in spite of the jagged, puckered lines unnaturally pulling at the rest of his features. He obviously hadn't taken very good care of his wounds for them to have set in such a grotesque way. He gave her a sideward glance and then sat up against her headboard.

"So," he said and then paused in thought carefully choosing his words. "You're it, Harley. The last one from the, uh, _good_ old days," he sucked in his cheeks and then wet his lips with his tongue.

"_That_ makes you my biggest threat." He looked down at her, his dark eyes searching her clear blue ones. "Especially since you can't seem to let go of Jac_k_, _you know too much_." He growled the last and fixed a hardened glare on her.

"I _could_ just kill you, however that would raise some questions with the wrong people. Why would 'The Joker' randomly kill a young do_ct_or turned psychiatrist before she could finish her Qual on said Joker. Especially since she had filled out all the paperwork she needed to submit for an internship at Arkham Asylum, where said Joker would probably end up if he wasn't killed first." Her eyes widened and she mumbled through her gag. He cocked his head to one side and chuckled darkly.

"Then again, with everything else I've done, why would one more _girl_ matter?" He giggled. He stroked her hair with the hand holding the knife. "You'd just be another two page police report in a file with some grisly photos. In a Big stack of police reports. You'd be lost in the, um, shuffle. You'd be a crime statistic and easily forgotten." He slid the knife beneath the gag and inside the corner of her mouth. It scraped against her teeth.

A thick tension filled the silent room as the man and woman stared into one another's eyes. Their breathing was quiet yet filled their heads with the intense beating of their hearts. Hers beat with terror, his in exhilaration. In a quick movement he twisted the knife and it tore through the webbing of her gag. He carefully removed it and then tossed it over the side of the bed. He studied her relieved expression and sighed with slight irritation, rolling his eyes.

"Your obvious choice is to come back to work." He said. "Either that, or we could go through the prior scenario but that would put me out as _I have plans for you_." He watched her face as she frowned slightly, processing what he'd laid out.

"Well, you can tell me what you want from me, or continue talking me to death." She replied with a hoarse, dry voice. He burst out laughing and lightly slapped her cheek.

A phone rang and they both snapped out of their exchange and looked around. He patted himself and then pulled a cell phone from his pants pocket and looked at the display.

"Excuse me, I have to take this, "he said jovially and snapped the phone open and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hello." He said in a somewhat alien voice. She knew that voice, it was his smooth business voice that he used when talking to the 'normal people.'

"Yes, I spoke with my associate earlier as soon as I heard the news." He listened for a moment. "Yes, it's such a shame to lose such an opportunity because that _Maniac_ blew up those properties." Harley chuckled in spite of herself and the Joker whipped his head around and placed a finger on his lips.

"I appreciate your quick response to the situation. Yes, of course I know that the police are going to have the scene blocked off in due course with their investigation." He nodded with the phone and rolled his eyes at Harley while making a 'talking' motion with his other hand.

"Thank you, I'll send my personal assistant," he said looking at Harley, "over tomorrow afternoon to pick up the paperwork." He ended the call and shook his head. "Damn insurance companies." He muttered. Harley looked at him in disbelief.

"You owned those warehouses!" She cried. He nodded and she burst out laughing, he flashed an evil grin and laughed with her. She stopped laughing and drew a breath to settle herself.

"So, your big plans for me are to deal with banks and insurance companies for you?" She looked at him quizzically.

"Well, that's _part_ of it. I don't think anyone else in my employ have that sort of ability. Besides, they're all criminals." He chuckled. "And I can't handle those things in person for _obvious_ reasons." She nodded.

"Yeah, when the Joker walks into a bank, he's there to rob it." She replied, then shook her head and grinned at him. "Did you rob _that_ bank?" He grinned maniacally and they both burst into giggles again. She looked up at his 'smiling' face and quieted her laughter. "But seriously, could you untie me now?"

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An empty pizza box lay open on the coffee table in front of the couch where the Joker lay with his feet over Harleys lap. They stared enrapt with the GCN coverage of the events of the past night interspersed with images and stories of the Jokers various crimes committed over the past couple of weeks.

The top stories of the day were the murders of Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes and the kidnapping of Lau. The 'experts' were now exploring the possibility that the Joker was tied to organized crime.

Harley brushed her blonde hair back over her shoulders and looked up the Jokers long body to his face. He was currently occupied with flipping through text messages and listening to voice mail on his _other_ business phone. His features were set in concentration and framed with his wild blonde hair tinged green like he'd spent too much time in a swimming pool. She glanced over at the half-zipped bag he'd unceremoniously dropped in the middle of her living room floor and had occasionally dug through.

"Are you with the mob now?" She asked him, looking at the bag and then back at him. He stared back and pressed a button on the phone and set it down.

"Well, that's a little complicated." He said frowning into the middle distance and tonguing the corner of his mouth. He'd done that even before his injuries when he was thinking. It was one of his ticks which he now partially exploited to intimidate people.

"I approached the mob with a proposal while Lau was making his pitch. When he screwed them over, then they came to me." He replied.

"Weren't you robbing them?" She frowned.

"Yeah," he said, "they, of course, tried to take me out but that didn't work out very well for them." He looked at her and her face suddenly brightened.

"So! Since you're working for them then if they catch you then you can turn State's evidence!" She smiled at him. His features turned dark and he launched himself at her, grabbing her face in one hand and her throat with the other. She struggled against him, but his weight and restraint overcame her.

"I'm No_t_ a Ra_t_, or a Sni_tch_!" He growled. She fought for her breath and looked into his fierce eyes.

"I, didn't," she gasped, "I just, help you get out of trouble." She closed her eyes and he let her go and shoved her off the sofa. She pushed herself into a sitting position and rested her head against his knee as tears slipped from her eyes. He gently patted the top of her head.

"By the time I'm finished with the mob I'll be running things. Everything has changed, Harley. There won't be any deals for me when I'm done. After all, I _did_ just dismantle the Gotham Criminal Justice System." He wound his fingers through her hair and she wiped her tears away.

"Tomorrow, we're going to start the end game. You have a big role Harley I need you to keep it together. Bad things are going to happen, nothing like you're used to." She looked up at him and rested her chin on his knee.

"I'm not wearing one of those masks." She said. He looked at her disapprovingly. "We'll cross that bridge later." He muttered.

"What's first?" She asked and slowly moved back onto the sofa beside him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, ready to take in his plans and ideas. The sound of his voice.

"Lau," he said, "he has their money and I'm going to get it back." She nodded against him and he continued. "I don't think it'll take much, persuasion." He chuckled darkly. She looked up, her face close to his. Their mouths mere inches apart.

"I want to talk to him." She said. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't worry, I won't deprive you anything," she smiled, "I want to play Good Doctor, Bad Clown." A wide grin spread across his face and he stroked her hair.

"Good Girl." He said quietly. She laid her head back against his shoulder, satisfied.

"What do I call you then?" She asked. "I know what I can't say. So what? Joker? Boss? Mister J?" He chuckled. "Puddin'?" She smiled.

"You're pushing it," He said in a low voice, "Harley Quinn."

She'd always hated that name, but when he said it, it felt so right.


	4. What Happens Tomorrow

**This Parody of Life**

**What Happens Tomorrow**

He woke in the morning stiff and still very sore. The headache was mostly gone, a dull throb, but his current state had to be good enough. He had a lot of work to do.

He turned over in her bed to look at the woman lying beside him. Her long blonde hair covered part of her pale face and she still wore the deep red chemise she'd worn for the past day. It clung pleasingly to her slim curves. Harley was always pleasant to look at.

He still hated her. He reached over and stroked her silky hair and resisted the urge to tangle his fingers in it and pull it until some tore from her scalp. She would scream and he would laugh and it would feel good for a few moments. But it wouldn't be enough.

He wanted to make her hurt, hear her screams and pleads for mercy. He wanted to watch her cry until her blue eyes were red and her lips bled from trying to stifle the pain. He wanted to hit her, throw her to the floor and kick her hard enough to take her breath to stop her screams.

He wanted to watch her crawl back to him and see the torture on her fare and the question in her eyes. 'Why?' But she already knew why. He saw it in her face nearly every time she'd looked at him since he'd arrived.

She stirred a little and shifted onto her back, a small sleepy sigh escaped her parted lips, but her eyes remained closed. He would make her eyes as black as his and then admire his work. She would be beautiful in a terrible way and then he would take the rest of her. He wouldn't be nice, he'd hurt her in the most personal way and he would make her love it.

Day after day until he finally killed her, or he'd gotten enough.

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Harley took another bite of her dry toast and chewed it while she tossed a few articles of clothing into her gym bag. She tried to guess what she would need but it was difficult considering the lack of detail he'd provided. I would be a couple of days at the least, forever at the most.

She put on her black lace bra and panties and then carefully slid some black, silky pantyhose up her legs. She walked to the closet and pulled out a black suit and slid the skirt up and fastened it in place. It was the short one, the one that would distract the men she'd be dealing with so they wouldn't ask too many questions.

She put on a red silk blouse and buttoned it up just past her breasts and tucked it into her skirt. Shrugging into her suit coat, she zipped up her bag and walked to the living room where she dropped it beside his.

She headed to the bathroom where he was busy applying his face paint. His hair looked greasy from the dye he'd put in. She watched the Joker 'transform' himself with the careful application of the white then black paint which made him look like a corpse, deaths' face. He smeared the red paint over his lips and across his face to cover his scars and complete his appearance as the 'Clown from Hell.'

The menacing makeup brought to the surface his inner madness; he was always the same man beneath. From the day she'd met him she'd known there was some _thing_ lurking beneath his handsome face. In a short time he'd found the perfect representation of that _thing_. _It_ was who he was, what Gotham City was, and what the World was becoming.

He glanced at her and stepped back to allow her to slide in front of him. She applied the makeup of the 'normal' while the Dark Clown watched from behind. When she was done she stuffed the case in a small bag filled with various pills, bottles of medicine, syringes; the essentials. She brushed her long blonde hair and then looked at the mirror. The faces which stared back seemed like a strange before and after snapshot.

"Ready," he said.

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Hal was a stocky, overweight guy with thinning hair and a lot of muscle. He also had the uncanny ability to keep his mouth shut at the right times which was probably why he was still part of the Jokers crew, alive.

He was the guy who drove the Joker everywhere. The Joker, a very high-strung younger man, always seemed to relax just a little when he was alone in the backseat while Hal drove.

Two nights prior he'd seen pure elation on the young man's face he hung half out the window of the stolen police cruiser. The Jokers plan had gone off without a hitch and he was very pleased with himself. Not necessarily with the crew, they didn't mean much to the Joker.

He'd taunted Lau in the back of the cruiser and laughed like a madman as Lau became overwhelmed and bent forward covering his face with his hands, crying like a bitch. Hal was paid well to observe and take part in the Jokers sometimes horrifying plans, but reaped the small rewards. Like watching that little Asian man who thought he'd outsmarted them all break under the Jokers blade and beg for mercy. If anything, the Joker knew no mercy.

He rounded a corner and passed the familiar apartment building, a trip he'd made countless times in the past. Two nights earlier he'd been there to drop off the Joker after they'd secured Lau and the crew broke for the evening. The adrenaline had worn off and the Jokers normally hunched gait was even more so. The man was in a Lot of pain, Hal pretended not to notice.

"Where to Boss?" Hal had asked glancing at the man in the rearview mirror.

"To the place on Harrisfield." The Joker replied as he uncomfortably settled in the back. For a moment Hal worried about him. He was hurt, badly hurt. He'd seen the flip that semi had made and the stumbling stagger the Joker had made as he got back onto his feet before facing off the Batman. The guy was hurt, maybe even dying.

The Joker rested his head against the side of the car and closed his eyes. He could see the man clenching his jaws beneath his hideously scarred mouth and cheeks. He did his best to avert his gaze from the Jokers private pain as he drove, relieved when he finally reached their destination.

He'd driven a block past the five-story apartment building and pulled into an alley. What about this place was so important to the Joker, he did not know. He only nodded when the man grunted his orders and disappeared, limping, into the night.

That morning Hal had been half-surprised to wake to an early morning call from the Joker. Now he was pulling into the same alley and putting the car into park while leaving the engine run idle. He didn't have to wait long; the Joker was a punctual man.

He saw the man approaching from the other end of the alley carrying two bags and someone following close behind. The Joker was dressed in full form, his purple suit and painted mask in place. Hal was a little relieved as he still had trouble looking at the man without his makeup. The Joker was a terrible man, but this guy was just a man.

Hal got out and moved to the back of the car and opened the trunk as the Joker walked around the other side. He slung one bag into the trunk and then the other before turning towards his companion. Hal glanced at the shorter, slim form and his eyes widened. She was a woman. The Joker gave Hal a sideward glance as he slammed the trunk closed and steered his companion around to the back door. He opened it for her and closed it behind her before following Hal around to the other side of the car and getting in.

Hal put the car into drive and the Joker pulled his cell out of his coat.

"This is Harley Quinn," the Joker said dismissively, "and that's Hal." He began speaking to someone on the phone as Harley Quinn smiled at Hal. He glanced over the seat at her and nodded.

"Nice to meet you Hal." She said cheerfully.

"Likewise." Hal replied. He caught the flash of a glare from the Joker in the mirror before he returned his attention to the call.

Harley settled back and looked out the window, a peaceful expression on her face. Compared with the Joker, she did not fit. The Joker had a woman? What kind of a woman was she that she could sit next to him so serenely?

She was a very pretty blonde with blue eyes, dressed in a flattering suit with a very short skirt. Her slim, curvaceous legs were crossed and her hands were folded in her lap. The Joker nudged her and she looked over at him and her expression became annoyed.

He held up a playing card with its back facing her. She sighed heavily. "Ten of spades." she said. The Joker tossed the card to the floor and held up another one.

"Three of Diamonds." No.

"Eight of Clubs." Wrong again.

"Jack of Hearts." The Joker glanced at the card and then tucked it into a coat pocket and dialed another number. When he began speaking he held up another card. Hal stifled a laugh as the ridiculous game continued; Harley scoring eight, he supposed, before they arrived at their base of operations.

When they reached the building, the Joker got out and opened Harley's door again, but this time he grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her up from her seat. He practically dragged the woman who miraculously didn't trip in her heels as Hal followed them inside.

The rest of the crew was already present as they knew the cost of tardiness. They looked up as the trio entered and the Joker strode to the midst of the assemblage stopping short and roughly jerking Harley to a halt beside him. Hal joined the group and watched the faces of the men who desperately tried to not look surprised.

"Harley Quinn, meet the gang." He said coolly and then turned to one of the men.

"How is our guest?" He asked and chuckled.

"He's awake and making idle threats." The man replied. The Joker smirked and then started toward the closed door on the side of the large warehouse space, dragging Harley along with him. The door slammed behind them and the men sighed in relief as the tension left the room. One of them turned to Hal.

"Who the Hell is _she_?" He asked, perplexed. Hal shrugged and they sat down on folding metal chairs and crates, turning their attention to the closed door.

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The room smelled of urine and Harley surmised it was Lau's. The Joker released his grip and Harley absently rubbed her wrist as she watched him stride over to Lau and pull a knife from his jacket. She frowned and wondered if it had gone through the wash at her apartment.

"Hi." The Joker said jovially as he slid the knife inside the corner of Lau's mouth. Harley stepped closer to get a better look and saw the terror in the man's eyes. She looked at the Joker's face and saw the menacing grin and decided that this was now his signature method of torture. After all, it had been quite effective on him.

"I'd like to ask again, where is the money, Lau?" The Joker's friendly voice and terrifying appearance made Lau draw back against the back of his chair. The Joker removed the knife and stared at the other man inquisitively.

"You won't kill me." Lau said, trying to sound brave. "Without me, there is no money and you are in the same position as me, with _them_." He finished and tried to smirk. The Joker rolled his eyes and stepped aside and gestured toward Harley.

"Well, perhaps you'll find my lovely assistant a little more persuasive." The Joker said his voice thick with sarcasm. He turned and stalked to the wall and leaned against it, his eyes on Harley.

Harley drew a breath and slowly approached Lau.

"Hello, I am Doctor Harleen Quinzel." She said cheerfully with a friendly smile. Lau eyed her warily and glanced at the ID tag she'd attached to her suit jacket identifying her as staff at Gotham General.

"My companion would like to start cutting pieces off of you, but I think you'll find my approach more appealing." She said.

She dug into her bag and withdrew a clear glass bottle and a syringe. She carefully drew some of the liquid into the syringe and then replaced the bottle. She squirted a little bit of the liquid to remove any air bubbles and then leaned over Lau.

"This is sodium pentathol," she said expertly, "also known as Truth Serum." She injected the solution into one of Lau's bound arms as he watched in horror. She dropped the syringe which shattered on the concrete floor and folded her arms, watching him for a few minutes.

"So, Mr. Lau, where is the money?" She asked sweetly. His head lolled and he blinked up at her.

"The money?" He asked disoriented. Harley pressed her lips together.

"The Mob money," She replied, "Remember it's either this way, or His way." Lau looked behind her at the Joker and then back at her. He swallowed hard.

"It's at the shipping docks." He replied. "In two containers marked DAXTC9823 and DAXTC9832." Harley nodded as she noted the container numbers and then turned to the Joker.

"He's all yours." She smiled. He grinned widely and they passed one another as she left the room.

The screams began before the door closed behind her.


	5. Bad Girl

**This Parody of Life**

**Bad Girl**

Harley took in the scene before her for the first time. It had all been a blur until she found herself staring into Lau's face. It was a focal point, a resting place. Now she looked around the cavernous space with the newspaper covered windows lining the high walls close to the roof.

Crates and steel drums were organized neatly in the space. He lived for chaos but was otherwise orderly. It was the engineer in him she supposed. That last fragment of normalcy trying to break through in its own way.

She glanced to her right and saw the group of men sitting on crates and chairs. They were all staring at her. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable and forced a smile before approaching them.

"Hello." She said in a cheerful voice, belying the nervousness in the pit of her stomach.

There were so many of them, at least twenty. A motley crew if there ever was one. Some wore work shirts and steel toe boots. A couple wore leather jackets and looked well groomed. Several were disheveled and looked lost. They most likely the ones who he'd called 'the Arkamites.' They were the ones he wanted her to pay attention to since he was 'too busy to be a _nut wrangler_.'

She drew a breath and fixed her gaze upon the driver, Hal. She walked over to him and sat on a crate by him. He nodded at her and she noted that the stares had followed her to her new position.

Why didn't anyone say something? Her eyes swept over the men. Some of them held clown masks in their hands. She shuddered inside, those damned masks.

"So, Harley." A man with shaggy brown hair and a week old growth of facial hair said. She waited for him to continue but he avoided her gaze and said nothing else.

"Did he give up where the money is, or what?" Asked an annoyed, tall, stocky man who stood and looked at her and then surveyed the others with a look that read, 'pussies.' Harley smiled at him.

"He did," she nodded, "he's just finishing things up in there." Another scream punctuated her statement but no one looked over. They must be used to that she decided. They would have to be to work for him.

The side door swung open with a creak and slammed shut behind the Joker as he entered the warehouse space. She watched him walk toward them, a confidence about him in his stride and expression. It spoke volumes, he was the Boss. The other men either sat up straighter or stood, awaiting orders from their Leader. He didn't look at her. She stepped over to him and quietly slipped the container numbers into his hand, looking up at his face, he kept his gaze fixed on the others.

"We have the money, boys." He smiled evilly and chuckled darkly. The others nodded as if the news was new, hanging on his every word.

"There's a lot to get done here, so we're getting started _now_." He surveyed the group and settled on Hal.

"Hal and," he cocked his head, squinted and looked around and pointed someone out seemingly at random, "You. You guys are going to take Harley out to some meetings. The rest of you are with me." He said turning and gesturing toward the other end of the space as he strode away.

The rest left Harley standing with Hal and the 'other guy' who looked extremely put out. He twisted his mask in his hands before throwing it on the floor with a slapping sound. It was the guy who had first spoken to her, shaggy hair.

She watched the Joker leaving and felt a slight panic in her chest. He was just leaving? Her breaths came faster as she realized that she hadn't left his side in nearly forty-eight hours. Two years apart and then he was leaving again? She started taking a step toward him when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around to face Hal and the pissed-off guy.

"We better get goin'," Hal said. She blinked at him and then nodded and followed the two men to the car.

No one held the door for Harley this time. No one sat beside her, touching her and smiling at her when the driver wasn't watching. She wanted to be with _Him_. Not going to pick up his dry cleaning or whatever the Hell it was she was supposed to do. Personal Assistant! She'd show Him _personal_, later.

"Where the Hell are we going anyway?" Shaggy snapped. Harley nodded to herself in agreement. Where _were_ they going? How did this Hal guy know? The Joker hadn't told him anything. Who was this Hal guy?

"We're doin' what the Boss said." Hal replied giving the younger man a hard look. Shaggy wasn't happy with that answer.

"This is Bullshit! We should be back there with those guys, getting the money! Not driving the Joker's piece of ass around shopping or whatever! Why the fuck are there cards all over this car?" The man shouted picking up the Ace of Diamonds and looking at it as if it would tell him everything. Harley snorted and looked out the window.

"Look, Pete! The Joker's not like those other guys you've worked for. He has no problem killing his guys. You hear about that last bank job? He killed his whole crew. You keep your mouth shut and do what the Boss says and maybe you live to see tomorrow." Hal said sternly. "And, if you think Miss Quinn back there is His girl, then I think you better be a little more respectful." Hal looked back at her and nodded. Shaggy Pete turned and glanced at her and lowered his head.

"Sorry, lady" he said quietly but with anger still in his voice. Like a kid whose dad had just given a stern lecture about throwing a baseball through the old bitch next doors' window.

"Harley Quinn," Hal snapped. "You call her by her _name_, Pete." Pete huffed a breath and turned to look at her, his green eyes piercing hers.

"Sorry, Harley Quinn!" he said sarcastically. Harley's fist hit his mouth before she realized she'd even swung. He started backward and grabbed his mouth with his hand, surprise evident in his expression.

"Fuck you, Pete!" She snapped. "You should listen to Hal he knows a thing or two. Mister J would have killed you if he'd seen how you acted like a little bastard back at the warehouse." She saw Hal's puzzled glance in the rearview mirror at what she'd called the Joker.

Pete took his hand from his mouth and looked at it, licking the blood from his lips as he turned and sank in his seat. Harley looked between them and then sat back herself and watched the buildings go past. It had been a long time since she'd hit anyone and she hadn't even thought about it this time. Some things just came naturally after a while, she supposed, especially when you spent as much time with the Joker as she had.

'_You don't hesitate the correct them. Like dogs, you have to show them who's Boss, Harley.'_ Sage wisdom from the man after he'd split a guys' head open with a crowbar. She'd stared as the blood began pouring from the wound and she had touched her own lip that the guy had split.

In the here and now Harley caught herself absently touching her lower lip as the car came to a halt. She focused on the buildings' façade and read the sign above the door. Gotham Savings and Loan. The older the establishment, the more likely it was being run by people who were up to no good. Harley opened the door and straightened her skirt and jacket before leaning back inside.

"I'll be back in a few, boys." She said before closing the door.

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Harley smiled politely and nodded as the Account Manager went on and on about the warehouses and what a shame it was that the Joker had killed the D.A. and the assistant D.A. and all those cops. She was screaming on the inside.

For a psychiatrist, she didn't like dealing with people. Regular, boring mundane run of the mill people, guys like this who would talk about anything to keep their mouths moving. It had always bothered her but even more so after she'd met _Him_. He never bothered with small talk, she'd learned that the night she'd met him.

"Have you been working for Mr. Napier very long?" The man with the capped teeth asked her breasts.

"Uh, huh," She nodded and he launched into another spiel she didn't bother listening to. Just get the damn paperwork together so she could get the hell out of here and see what the mobs' money looked like in person. Screw that, she just wanted to be near Him again.

In a way, it was flattering that he was having her do this. He trusted her; he'd even given her a couple of guys to kick around. She smiled and the Bank Guy took it as encouragement to continue talking. He was still pissed at her, no that wasn't a strong enough word for it. Furious wasn't even enough. He had a look in his eyes which had flashed at her a few times in the past two days that made her go cold inside, rooted to the spot.

It was Hate. He trusted her and he hated her. The Bank Guy finally excused himself to get the paperwork and Harley felt the tears stinging in her eyes. She quickly wiped any away and smoothed her hair. She didn't want him to hate her. She wanted to go back to when he never looked at her like that. She shook her head.

'Doctor Quinzel, that isn't going to happen. Don't even think like that, what are you, sixteen?' She silently scolded herself.

She could go on loving him and that was the most she could hope for. She was one of 'his guys' as Hal had put it. Not His 'piece of ass,' as Shaggy Pete had said. Either way, she was utterly disposable. Piece of ass wouldn't be a bad way to go about it though.

"Here you are, Miss Quinn." Creepy Bank Guy said cheerfully walking back in and holding up a folder. Harley about leapt to her feet.

"Thank you!" She said all but snatching the paperwork from him. She shook his sweaty hand and then stood before him uncomfortably, wondering if she'd have to break his nose to let her leave.

"You have a nice day," he said leering, "and tell Mr. Napier we wouldn't mind seeing him next time."

'Oh but you would,' Harley thought as she put distance between herself and that annoyance.

She laughed quietly to herself. He still used his real name but he wouldn't let her call him by it. Asshole.

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The Joker strode up to the first container and cut the chain lock with a bolt cutter. He could feel the anticipating stares of his men on his back, and it annoyed him. They were like a pack of jackals, ready to leap for their first meal in a month. The pure greed disgusted him.

He dropped the bolt cutters and pulled the lever securing the doors out of its lock and opened the large steel door. It groaned like the damned as he swung it open and there the money was, carefully wrapped and stacked filling the box completely.

Amazed chuckles and curses came from behind him from his crew as he tilted his head and contemplated the moment. It was more money than he'd ever seen in his life. The mob saw this mound of paper as power, like magic. They used this printed pulp to destroy lives and control the ones they didn't. He shook his head.

Ever since people came up with the concept of money, those like the government and mob used it as absolute power. Over the ages they had different names like kings and the church. Now even the ordinary people were even trying to get in on the game. He hated the game and it was time to end it. He would make these people rethink how they led their pointless lives in the pursuit of the almighty dollar. Money was nothing, life was everything.

He shut the container door and swung the lever shut before turning around to face his men, his long coat whirling about his legs as he did. He fixed a disapproving glare upon them that wiped the hunger from their faces.

"Load it up, boys and get the other one." He barked at them and turned on his heel and strode toward the gate they'd parked at. He pulled out his cell phone and thumbed through the text messages from Hal.

_1:30PMArrived at Gotham SNL_

_2:28PMLeft Gotham SNL_

He frowned at the times. What had taken her so long there? She was taking her sweet time getting the job done. They were behind schedule. He began to tap his right foot as he went to the next message.

_2:59PMArrived at Flagler Insurance Group_

_3:20PMHarley demanded we leave to follow some guy in a brown suit. She's still at the office._

"What?" He snapped at the device. He fumed and nearly slammed the phone to the pavement. What was that dumb blonde up to? He shook his head. Was she servicing each of the guys he'd sent her to meet? His eyes narrowed and a deep fury consumed him. Now she was sending his people to track down _another_ man!

Harley and her whorish ways, he seethed. One of the many reasons he hated women. She was always prancing around like a little fuck bunny in her skimpy outfits, screwing her way through life. She made him sick. He'd made another mistake with her and he was going to fix that when they returned, if he didn't go out and drag her ass back first.

He sent a terse message to Hal and snapped the phone closed. He tightened his gloved hand around it, squeezing the object and feeling the case compress before shoving it back in his pocket. He returned his gaze to his men working, but his mind was still on that woman and how rough he was going to be with her when he saw her again.

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Harley sat in the waiting area of the Flagler Insurance Group office and fidgeted slightly. Shaggy Pete was beside himself in the car down in the parking lot and she was getting there herself. This was Bullshit errand running. Maybe she'd have Hal swing through a gas station and pick up a six pack for them for the drive back. She shook her head, the Joker wouldn't like them 'drinking on the job.' What would he do, kill them? At least they would have a good buzz going when they waltzed into the afterlife.

She stood and walked down the hall to the coffee machine the secretary had told her about. Coffee was just what she needed to help her bounce harder off the walls. Long ago she realized that He maintained his manic state from all the coffee and cigarettes he went through. It was a wonder he ever slept. She smiled. When he did sleep, he looked so peaceful. Even now with those terrible scars. The past two nights had been so nice, sleeping beside him, looking at his face. She'd longed for that for so many years. They were getting, There. She wanted him, all of him. She wanted the laughter and rage, the harshness and tenderness of his touch. When she was with him she really felt alive. Sometimes it hurt, but that was life.

She took a sip of her coffee and turned to head back to the waiting room of infinite boredom when she heard a man's panicked voice.

"But he's going to keep killing people if I Don't say anything!" The voice whined. Harley stopped dead in her tracks. Hello, what was _this_ drama in the insurance office?

"You seriously think you work for the _Batman_?" Another mans' voice broke into giggles.

Jackpot! Harley snickered to herself. She moved closer to the voices and stood by the wall, pretending to admire the piece of crap on the wall they called art.

"It's right _here_, on paper!" The whiner shrieked.

"You have a memo in there that says, 'Dear Company I, Bruce Wayne, am the Batman. Have a nice day!" The other guy chuckled. It was an annoying laugh. Harley leaned a little to try to catch a glimpse of the two men.

That, in an insane way, made sense. As a psychiatrist, she was all about the insane. Bruce Wayne is Batman? He had the money. He had all kinds of technology. He wasn't someone that the police were going to hold even if they knew he was Batman. The citizens of Gotham would rejoice at the news. Bruce Wayne was personally saving the city, Day and Night. He built new schools and hospitals and beat the crap out of guys like the Joker and still made it to all the fancy pants rich boy functions.

Harley giggled and started walking just as the two men were exiting the office beside her. One was a short, stocky guy in a brown suit with close cropped red hair and a worried expression on his face. The other was a taller slender man in an olive suit also red-haired. He broke loose another annoying chuckle and Harley decided that brown suit was the whiner.

She strode before them back to the waiting room and looked askance as the two men exchanged pleasantries and olive suit patted the whiner on his arm.

"Go get drunk, Cole, and forget about all this crap." Olive suit said reassuringly. Cole still wasn't happy.

"See you later, Eddie." Cole said and lowered his head as he turned and stalked out of the lobby. Eddie headed back down the hallway.

Harley dug out the Joker phone and excitedly snapped it open and called Hal downstairs.

"Hal!" she half whispered. "I need you guys to do something for me."

"We're supposed to wait for you, Harley." Hal's replied. Stick to the plan Hal, she rolled her eyes.

"Never mind that, Hal, this is important! This short guy in a brown suit is about to come out. I need you boys to follow him. This IS business!" She snapped the phone closed before he could protest.

"Miss Quinn?" a man asked. Harley nearly jumped, finally her wait was over. She stood and turned toward the voice. It was Olive Suit Eddie. She smiled and he met hers with a wide, mischievous grin.

"Come with me, please." He said and motioned for her and she followed him back down the hall to the office of Bat Drama.

He closed the door behind her and politely offered her a seat. She slipped into it easily and crossed her legs, the skirt rising slightly. Sex was her best weapon and men the weakest enemy.

She watched him give her the once over without really looking at her. She would have missed it had she not been watching. He sat confidently in his seat and slid a file across his desk and opened it. She glanced at his question mark tie clip before fixing her gaze on his face. He wasn't bad looking and aside from the annoying twitter of his laugh, overall attractive. Not in the way _He_ was though.

"Miss Quinn, or is it Harley?" he asked tilting his head. She sighed.

"Either one is fine," she replied, "I've heard that joke my whole life." He nodded sympathetically.

"I understand the curse of parents who give their children cruel names." He said. "I'm Edward Nigma." Harley thought fast and smiled.

"_That_ is an interesting one." She giggled. He joined her with that annoying laugh.

The clown girl meets the mystery man, it was perfect.


	6. A Girl Who Will Laugh For No One Else

**This Parody of Life**

**A Girl Who Will Laugh For No One Else**

At the docks, the Joker watched as the men began unloading the money from one of the shipping containers inside the old rusted out hull of a cargo ship. The boat was in serious disrepair and the perfect setting of things to come. He smiled inwardly and picked up a bundle of hundred dollar bills and ran his thumb along its edge fanning through the paper.

He glanced at the sunlight filtering in from an overhead loading port as his thoughts returned to the pesky blonde and whatever the hell she was up to.

Hal reported that they had left the Insurance office and were now waiting for her outside a bar. Hal failed to give the name of the establishment and the Joker held the suspicion that it was to prevent him from showing up. If prompted, he was sure the man would be more than happy to divulge their location.

He dropped the money back on the stack from which he'd taken it and walked away once again digging the cell from his breast pocket. With it came a couple playing cards. He glanced at them, the Jack of Diamonds the "laughing boy" and the Queen of Hearts "Judith or Elizabeth."

He'd spent a considerable amount of time in school learning card games and tricks. They'd interested him more than the mechanics and theory of his core studies. Game theory and Chaos theory had always intrigued him as had social science. He'd slipped into many a class and lecture undetected to learn more about the subjects which really interested him. Despite his obsessions, he'd never had problems with the studies of his trade.

Years later he would give recitations of his studies to a woman who always gave him her admiring, undivided attention. Now this woman was irritating him beyond belief.

He snapped the cell open to see Hal's reports. There were no new messages to him; however there were about fifty from his men to one another "waxing poetic" about the situation at hand. The idiots didn't know that he had their phones set to copy him on every text message and voicemail.

_From Ruby: "The Boss is getting' pissed, man."_

_From Arch: "Hal, you gotta stop screwing around and get back here."_

_From Leo: "Joker's gonna KILL a BITCH!"_

Biting the inside of his cheek and slightly chewing, the Joker read through another twenty messages before sending one of his own.

_From X: "Joker's going to kill a lot of Fools who don't get the Fuck back to Work!"_

He looked up and saw a few of the crew staring at him with shocked expressions and then quickly jumping back to their tasks. He did appreciate new technology; it had made his job so much easier. He had to face it; he'd never dealt with the brightest bunch; the dumber they were the more influence he had over them. The crazier they were; the fewer expectations they had. Then there was Harley.

He looked back at his phone and sent Hal another message before snapping the device closed and heading back to the main event.

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Harley tucked the business card Edward Nigma had given her away in her pocket. He'd asked her for her "contact information" and she had simply replied that she didn't give out her private numbers. A playful smile had come across his lips and she realized that she'd just become a challenge to this man who seemed obsessed with puzzles and riddles.

She closed her eyes and sighed. The Joker would find some horrific means of disposal for this man if he ever discovered his interest in Harley. He never expressed interest in her in any romantic way; but he held possessiveness over her she had never fully understood. He didn't like it when other men looked at her or when he discovered any of her sexual exploits. She could never prove it, but she knew he'd done things to men she'd been involved with in the past.

It was those times she was secretly relieved that he didn't know about the women.

When the car screeched to a halt in front of her she nonchalantly opened her door and slid inside. She frowned at the looks both men gave her.

"What did you find out about our _friend_?" She asked smoothly.

"Forget that!" Hal snapped. "Boss wants us back, _Now_!" She pressed her lips into a firm line which whitened from the pressure of her bite.

"And _I_ want to know what you found out!" She said in a low, even tone. _Babysitters!_ She shuddered inwardly and her face flushed in anger. He was _not_ going to control _every_ single thing she did! She'd given him years of unrelenting devotion; she deserved a little space of her own.

Hal looked at Pete sharply before pulling away from the curb. Peter turned to her in the back seat, his expression was profoundly unsettled.

"The guy walked a couple of blocks and went into a bar." He said. "He's been sitting at the bar alone ever since. He's had three Sam Adam's and seems really bothered by something." Pete swallowed. "Excuse me for askin', but how is that business? Some loser getting drunk in the middle of the afternoon doesn't seem like anything that the Boss would be interested in." Harley smiled sweetly.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Petey." She said, fluttering her eyelashes. "Hal, take me there, please." Hal briefly threw her a disapproving look over his shoulder and turned back to face the road.

"Nuh, uh. Boss wants you back, we're going back." He said shaking his head. Harley sighed heavily and pulled a gun from her bag on the seat and pointed it at the back of Hal's head. Pete's eyes went wide in terror.

"Lets' go for a drink, Hal." She said cocking the gun. Hal blew an exasperated breath and turned the car around.

"You better know what you're doing, young lady, or you're gonna get us all killed." He said resignedly. Pete looked over at him.

"It's, Harley Quinn, Hal." Pete snapped at the other man. Harley smiled and tucked the gun away.

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Harley confidently strode into "McGuire's" and took a seat beside Brown Suit at the bar. She'd removed her jacket in the car where the other two men now sat impatiently. She motioned to the bartender and swept her blonde hair over her shoulders as she ordered.

She caught the questioning glance of the man in brown and smiled at him sweetly.

"You look like you're having a bad day." She said in a sweet, flirtatious tone. He snorted at his beer.

"You really don't know the half of it." He said in a voice which still contained that whine.

"Rough day at the office?" she asked taking a sip of her beer and studying him. It only took about twenty-five minutes to charm nearly all the information she needed from him to convince the Joker that this would be worth his while. She laughed at his dumb jokes and gave him all the room his eyes needed to roam over her.

The meeting had gone very well, despite the continued interrupting beeps from her phone. Hal had insisted that she turn it on while she was in the bar apparently so he could annoy her with prompts to leave. She politely excused herself from the conversation to read the monotonous texts and explained to Coleman Reese that she had a very demanding boss.

She had Mr. Reese wrapped around her finger. Her cell beeped again and that time it was the Joker himself.

_From X: "Time to go, Harley."_

She felt herself go cold and knew the color had drained from her face. She could see him in her minds eye, pacing angrily and running a gloved thumb along the sharp edge of a knife. She nodded absently at the phone.

'Okay, I'm coming.' She replied. She smiled wan at Coleman Reese.

"I really must be getting back to work." He looked at her disappointedly.

"Um, could we, uh. Could I meet you again, for dinner and drinks?" He asked tilting his glass with his index finger.

"I'd love to, Cole." She beamed and quickly stood and shook his hand before quickly making her exit.

When she closed the door of the car the two men in the front looked at her as if she were doomed. Hal started the car and they drove in silence.

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The Joker was waiting for them at the gaping maw of the rusted out ghost of a ship. Harley saw that dark look in his eyes and swallowed hard to center herself before exiting the vehicle. She heard Pete ask Hal if _they_ should wait to go in before or after the Joker killed her.

Two doors slammed behind her as she strode up to the Joker and beamed holding up the files she'd successfully retrieved that afternoon, including the one she'd slipped from Mr. Reese's possession.

The Joker continued to glare at her as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other as she approached. He nodded to the other men who quickly entered the boat as she stopped in front of him. He snatched the folders from her hand and carelessly tossed them aside, some liberated papers sliding from within.

In one swift motion he slammed her against the rusting steel with his hands wrapped around her throat. She gave a strangled cry as the cold metal dug into her back. He grinned at her showing his teeth stained yellow from coffee, cigarettes and limitations due to his scars. He leaned close and chuckled darkly into her ear.

"Mickey and Minnie Mouse are in court getting a divorce." He said.

"The judge asks "Mr. Mouse. Do really expect the court to grant you a divorce on the grounds that your wife is crazy?" He drew back and smiled menacingly at her.

"Mickey says "Your honor, I never said she was crazy. I said she was fucking Goofy!" He growled and tightened his grip around her throat. She gasped and her eyes fluttered closed in pain and from lack of oxygen.

She saw spots form in the backs of her eyelids and felt weak. She fell limp against the steel, held up solely by his stranglehold. Suddenly he yanked her forward and shoved her to the ground. She didn't register anything as her body hit the hard floor.

He climbed over her and then sat straddling her, his weight drove onto her pelvis. She gasped and opened her eyes a little to catch a glimpse of his hard stare. He placed his hands on the floor on either side of her shoulders and leaned close to her face, taking in her every expression.

She touched her throat and took a few deep, pained breaths as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. He leaned close to her ear and she could feel his hot breath tickle her skin and wished she didn't like it.

"I can't have you getting out of hand, Harley. See, it doesn't look good for me to have an insolent little _slut_ running around making a _Fool_ of me." He breathed and then gently licked a tear from her ear to her eye. She watched him tasting her tear and then focus upon her again.

He slipped his hands under her arms and pulled her to an awkward sitting position holding her up as he continued to crouch, straddling her. She slipped her arms around him and buried her face in his coat and sobbed.

"I won't, won't, do it again, Mister J" she stammered, her voice and sobs muffled against his chest. "I, j-just found someone, a toy for you."

He gently extracted her from his coat and looked at her curiously, the rage gone from his eyes. She told him of Coleman's story and limply gestured to the files and scattered papers.

"It's probably all bullshit, but I thought it might be something you could use." She smiled weakly. He nodded and she could tell the wheels in his mind were already turning. His face brightened and he stood, pulling Harley to her feet.

"I have something to show you." He said jovially and took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly.

Holding her hand, he led her deep into the ship into the, main cargo hold. They were oblivious to the stares from some of his men as he strode in with her. He stopped and slipped his hand around to the small of her back in a loving way as he gestured to the huge, neatly stacked pile of money. Harley's eyes widened and her lips parted slightly in shock at the vision and she drew a deep, pained breath. His hand slipped around to her hip and he squeezed it gently. She looked up into his deep, brown eyes and he smiled widely, chuckling at her expression.

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Harley sat on the cheap futon bed with a mattress so thin she could feel every spring as they squealed beneath their weight. It was centered in a small room that was once an office of the warehouse to which they had returned once things were settled at the docks.

She'd washed up in the locker room downstairs in a weak attempt to clear her head of the displeasing events of the day; before returning to the Jokers' room. Once she'd entered, she'd found him lying across the futon propping his head up with one arm and reading through days' paperwork which was spread out beside him.

The paint on his face had long cracked along the lines and features of his face. She wished he would wash it off so she could see 'Jacks' face again. She'd had enough of 'The Clown,' as it was referred to, for the day. He glanced at her briefly and then returned his full attention to his reading.

She grabbed her bag and dragged it across the concrete floor to the side of the futon and sat down, leaning over to unzip it. She absently rifled through its contents while she listened to his breathing. He hadn't said a word to her since they'd left the docks.

She pulled a long, grey Gotham U. T-shirt from her bag. She quietly stood with her back to him and unbuttoned her blouse, letting it fall to the floor beside her. She heard paper on paper and knew he was watching her. She smiled, feeling a warm sensation creep over her body.

She unhooked her skirt and allowed it to slide down her legs and pool around her feet. She stepped out of it and then slowly slid the pantyhose down one leg and then the other, letting it hang from one foot as she carefully balanced herself as she raised it and flicked the hose with a quick kick.

She reached behind her with an exaggerated arching of her back and unhooked her bra, holding it out beside her thin form and allowing it to slip from her fingers. She carefully bent, covering her exposed breasts with her slim left arm and swept the shirt up in her right hand. She slid her arms through the soft fabric and raised her arms above her head, allowing the shirt to fall on. With a quick tug, she pulled her head through.

"It isn't polite to stare." She said in a seductive voice and turned her head over her shoulder to look at him. He rolled his eyes and his face remained otherwise expressionless. He looked back at the papers and lifted another page to read it.

She flopped herself onto the bed and propped her head up, facing him. He continued with his reading and she felt a sense of deja-vu. She looked him over and studied his features again. He was still fully dressed with his shoes on. He'd rolled his sleeves up above his elbows sometime after he'd removed his leather gloves and coat.

She liked how he dressed now. It suited him well. In the beginning it had been cheap thrift-store finds as he'd tried to piece himself together. His new clothes had been tailored and she briefly wondered what had happened to the person who'd made them.

The make-up was the same. He'd long-ago adopted 'The Clown' but with a slight exaggeration of the red across his cheeks before he'd had anything to cover. It was a part of his psyche, one that he'd seen in the mirror ever increasingly he'd told her one night in a fevered rant.

He'd told her everything then, like she was another part of his consciousness which he could talk to. He was fascinating; and she had been _his_ since he'd first drawn her into his world. His intensity was intoxicating and she'd spent many nights listening to him until the dawn.

She blinked and smiled wryly. 'Way to make the connection, Harley-girl' she thought. His possessiveness stemmed from his vision of her as an extension of himself. One he could talk to, yell at, touch and beat up. If it weren't for the part of her which retained her sense of self and womanhood, she would be a perfect mirror. She thought of them standing together in her bathroom that morning. Before and After. She was getting good at this psychiatry thing.

No wonder he never looked at her with any desire, he didn't want to 'fuck himself.' She rolled herself onto her back and giggled.

"What?" He asked absently, still not looking up. She burst into full-out laughter and balled up her small hands and hit the mattress, tears rolling down the sides of her face. He was making her _crazy_.


	7. I'm Your Hell, I'm Your Dream

**This Parody of Life**

**I'm Your Hell, I'm Your Dream**

Harley waved the smoke coming from the skillet from her face and coughed. She heard him trying to suppress a chuckle from where he sat a few feet away at her two seat table, books and papers scattered in front of him.

"Not funny." She coughed and he laughed inside until he coughed from trying to hold it in.

"You're a terrible cook." He smiled up at her. She screwed her face into a frown but couldn't hold it when she looked at him. He had a nice smile, it softened the hard lines on his face and when it was real, like now, she could see it in his eyes.

He set the pen in his left hand down as he closed a book over a few sheets of paper with his right, clearing the table for their ruined dinner.

"Well, that's what you get when you do a lady's homework for her." She giggled. He smirked at her and set the books aside as she scraped the burnt steak slices onto a plate covered with a paper towel.

She set the pan back on the stove and tossed a couple more in. To be fair, Harley had done _some_ of the work herself. She paid attention in class, most of the time. She was more interested in the clinical aspects of her profession, the blood and guts. Silly papers and tests were just regurgitation a million times over. Besides, he was interested in some of her studies and he was very intelligent.

He got up and crossed the room to the window and drummed his fingers on the sill for a moment before opening it to help rid the small space of some of the smoke. She chanced a look at him away from her pained efforts to not burn the rest of their meal. Compared with his steady diet of ramen he should be appreciative of this delicacy.

He lit a cigarette and leaned against the window frame to let that smoke drift out as well. He rarely smoked inside but with the rain coming down as it was he wasn't going to slip out onto the fire escape. It always rained in 'The Narrows.' Sometimes she blamed the rain and overcast environment for his dour mood. Mostly it was because that was the kind of man he was, angry and mad at the world. At least he found some amusement in life, even if it was sometimes disturbing.

He lightened some when he was with her and she was happy when she could make him happy. 'Why so serious?' he'd asked her one bad night. The phrase had then become part of their report and always brought a smile to their faces.

He put out his cigarette and returned to the small kitchen and brushed against her as he went to pull a couple of plates from the cupboard. He grinned evilly and she sighed. He was a tease and he knew it pissed her off. He didn't want her but was content to torture her. As he set the plates on the table a knock sounded on the door.

They both looked at the door, then at each other.

"Are you expecting someone?" He asked suspiciously, growing tense and defensive. She shook her head and looked back at the door. Another knock came and Harley rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them with a towel as she approached the door.

She peered through the peephole and her heart began to race as her breath caught in her chest. 'Oh, not good! _Not_ good.' She glanced back at him with a look of slight panic and he took two steps toward her as his figure became slouched. His hand slipped into his pocket and she knew it was going for his knife. She shook her head hurriedly at him and turned back to the door. She unhooked the chain and opened the door wide and put on her best, forced smile.

"Mom, Dad! What a surprise." She said through her tense jaw. Her mom smiled at her warmly, her auburn hair pulled in a bun. Her blue eyes looked dull in her pallid face, but she was happy to see her youngest daughter. Her father, on the other hand, didn't seem so keen.

He was a distinguished man, graying hair over hard eyes and lines on his face. He was about as tall as Jack, but he filled his frame whereas Jack always seemed too thin. Suddenly remembering him, she turned back to Jack and motioned toward her parents.

"Mom, Dad, this is my friend, Jack." She said innocently. She caught her father's look of disapproval, as had Jack. Jack nodded at her father as he closed the distance and sharply stuck out his left hand. He did so because most people were right-handed and he liked to fluster them.

Her father took Jack's hand and the two shook as the tension nearly suffocated Harley. They pulled away from one another and Jack shoved his hand back into his pocket. He nodded to her mother and gave her a brief, polite smile. He caught Harley's eye and she beamed back at her parents.

"So, what brings you to Gotham this fine evening?" She asked cheerfully. Her father glanced at her mother and then back at her.

"I am in town for business. Your mother thought we should drop by to take you out to dinner." He replied, eyeing Jack.

"Oh, what a coincidence," Harley said a little too cheerfully, "we were just sitting down to some 'Steak-um' sandwiches. Would you like some?"

At her fathers' look of obvious disgust, Jack turned on his heel and swept up the plate of burnt meat from the table and strode toward the door.

"Enjoy your evening," he said passing Harley and nodded at her parents as he passed them in the door. They watched as he headed to the apartment next door and entered it, closing the door a little too hard behind him. Harley looked back at her parents.

"I'll get my jacket." She smiled and shrugged the article on and some shoes while grabbing her purse on the way out the door. Her father glanced at her attire and sighed with exasperation. The evening had already gone very wrong.

Dinner had been strained, as it always was with her father, but with an added element of tension. His name was Jack Napier. It was the only time her parents had met Jack, but he'd left a lasting impression on them. Her father immediately sensed something sinister about the young man. Her mother, never judgmental about her children, had tried to disarm him.

Over the years, Jack was only brought up in a hushed voice by her mother even after the time came when they had parted ways. She also talked to her sister, Joan, about him, but only when she really missed him. Her father never said another word about the man.

Harley returned to their six-story apartment building and climbed four flights of stairs and turned the corner to where their apartments were; 4J and 4K. She glanced at her take-home box and approached his door. Everyone knew that apartment was his.

When she'd moved in, she'd been barraged with the vicious gossip surrounding "That Asshole in 4J." He never smiled at anyone and rarely spoke except to be rude or provoking. He pushed everyone's buttons and seemed to enjoy doing so.

He was that guy who always played his stereo too loud with hard rock and metal, dark stuff that his neighbors found disturbing. Some of them even thought that he cranked up his music and then left for the day, forcing them to listen to it for the duration.

One particularly disturbing piece of gossip told spitefully by a middle-aged old maid had been that he'd driven the former occupant of 4K to commit suicide. Not only that, but then he had cruelly stood over her body and laughed with pure mirth even as they loaded her body into the coroner's wagon. "And, she was pregnant!" The old maid had added with the look that career gossips had as they got off on a particularly juicy item. Additional information had been provided that the residents all speculated that the baby had been _His_.

Harley shook off those thoughts as she knocked on his door. As usual, his stereo was playing too loud and she doubted that he'd even heard her. She tried the knob and found his door was unlocked.

She strode into the dark apartment and found him asleep on his couch, where he slept most nights. He had a bed, but rarely used it as it was covered with an assortment of clothing, books and newspapers. These items were always neatly arranged and the clothing folded; much like the rest of his place. He had an orderliness that bordered on obsessive compulsiveness. His 'Masters Degree in Engineering' diploma from Gotham University was an explanation for this, as it sat lonely in a drawer in the kitchen.

"Jack! I have brought sustenance for my Puddin'." She called loudly as she stood beside him. He shook off his sleep as she set the box on his belly and then crossed the room to turn down the stereo.

"I wish you'd stop calling me that." He grumbled grouchily, peering inside at the leftovers.

"Okay, Puddin'." She smiled, not looking at him. He groaned and began to dig into his food as she went back to her apartment.

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Harley opened her eyes again and stared at the light over that horrible futon bed. It cast harsh shadows about the room, making it feel even more surreal. She rolled her head to the side and saw the Joker scribbling away in a notebook, having long finished reviewing the documents she'd retrieved for him. He'd sealed the papers in an envelope earlier to mail back, not wanting to bother with sending her to the offices.

He'd been angrier that afternoon than she'd ever seen him before. He'd been rough, forceful with her on occasion, but never before had he choked her that hard and meaningfully. She'd been shaken by the occasion and an annoying voice deep in her mind prodded. It poked at her until she drowned it out with her own deep thoughts and memories. She loved Jack and that voice could fuck off, even if he _did_ kill her.

She'd never been happier than when she was with him and now nothing else mattered. She would walk away from everything if only he would ask. She hadn't come to this decision hastily, too many people throw caution to the wind to run away fueled by lust alone. No, she'd spent many days and nights carefully considering her options over the past two years and had come to the decision that if he ever came back to her, then she would run to him. Life was trivial in most ways and if people realized how stupid their pursuits were then they would laugh as hard and as madly as she did with Jack.

She remembered how he'd talked her down that one pivotal evening. The first time he'd taken her into his world. He could have easily ignored her cries and screams while she despaired in her own private Hell, but he'd come charging in and dragged her away from it, to another one.

He'd shown her the Real Hell, the one they walked through blindly every day of their lives. She'd been scared as he'd lit the fire and terrified as he'd dragged her through the flames, but they'd gone through them unscathed.

As she sat on the pavement watching the old house burn and him gesturing wildly at it and spitting epithets and rage she'd opened her eyes for the first time.

As Jack burned down his childhood home he had preached to her about the 'disparity of life.' In her numbed state she'd heard him call it 'this parody of life.' And that was how she'd seen it every day since. He was a clown after all.

As he finished writing, he set the pen aside and closed his notebook and Harley rolled her head back to the light and closed her eyes.

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Harley walked out of the darkness of the rooftop entrance toward where he stood at the buildings edge. Beside him, beyond the low wall of brick was a six-story drop to another of 'The Narrows' lonely alleys. She walked slowly, smiling seductively and Jack tried to look away.

"Nice mess you have there." The Clown rasped and then laughed. Jack turned to see the figure standing a few feet away, leaning against a vent. Its appearance had never changed over the years, except for his smile. It nodded toward Harley and glanced over her petite, scantly-clad figure as she nearly reached Jack.

"Now, what are you going to do?" The Clown prodded. "You're the Ba_d_ Guy, Jack, and the Bad Guy _never_ gets the girl."

Harley's hands touched his cheeks and came away bloodied. He felt pain as his cheeks tore when he tried to speak. Harley glanced at The Clown who ran his fingers up his mouth to infer a smile. She turned back to Jack and spread his blood across her lips and up her cheeks and giggled girlishly.

"Nice smile you have there, Jack. But then she always knew how to put a _smile_ on your face." The Clown smirked and then doubled over laughing.

Harley stood up on the tips of her bare toes and kissed Jack. He tasted blood and tried to draw her to him. She gently pushed him back and stepped up onto the wall and turned back to face him.

"I think I'm falling for you, Jack." She said smiling blissfully at his torn face. The Clown snorted with laughter.

"I think that's a _great_ idea!" He said enthusiastically and then placed a hand firmly against her stomach. With a hard push she disappeared over the edge, The Clown turned back to face Jack, placing himself between Jack and where she had fallen. Jack grabbed The Clown and tried to move past him but The Clown held him and started laughing maniacally.

"I don't know what it is about you, Joker, but you have _ALL_ the girls falling at your feet!" The Clown said.

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The Joker watched Harley sleeping on the crappy futon bed from where he sat on the long windowsill. The bottom of the window was pushed outward, opened and he raised the cigarette resting there to his mouth once more.

His dream had no hidden meanings; he'd been having it for the past two years, since that night. He took a long drag on his cigarette to calm the sudden flood of fury within him.

She was lovesick for him and yet still hurt him; and he would eventually kill her. It was the easiest message he'd ever received. It had been selfish for him to get her involved, he knew, and he didn't want her anywhere but there. By _his_ side, doing what he said, looking at him with unconditional love and surrender.

She had walked into this with her eyes wide open.

He lit another cigarette and looked into the murky transition of twilight. He would wake her soon and they would move on to the next step of the Plan. He smiled.

The City was terrified, of Him. He laughed and thought back to the rage on the Batman's face, that he could see. The crazy man in the Bat Suit had been driven to madness by him. He was still hurt by the encounter, but it had been worth everything. His plan had gone off without a hitch, imbecile help and all. Now he wanted to see the Batman's face again, and his reaction to what he was going to do next. He felt a pleasant chill run through him and finished his cigarette.

He stood and walked over to the futon and crawled onto it beside her, slipping an arm around her slight waist and bringing his legs against hers. He propped himself up on one arm and watched her sleep, the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath her shirt. Looking her over he began to rethink this arrangement again. Most of his hired help thought he was fucking her; why not indulge in her for real?

Because he hated women. It came back to that, and he hated Harley. He sighed quietly and slid a finger along her breast. She drew a sharp breath and made a soft cry and her body moved slightly as she fell back into a deeper sleep state.

It wasn't even sport with this one, he mused. Then again it hadn't really been for any of them. He could get any slut in Gotham City he wanted. Well, before the scars.

He'd stopped having sex years before, while still in school. It had never really held any satisfaction for him. Most of the time he was in it with a 'friend', he was the constant wing-man. His 'buddy' would get the attractive girl and he got what passed as decent. It was probably his personality that turned off the pretty ones; he'd never been much of a 'people person.'

For him; sex was a waste of time anyway. There were more interesting pursuits in life; as well as his inability to procreate. He'd learned that fun little fact about himself while he had been in the business of selling bodily fluids. His blood was still good, though.

He stroked Harleys' hair and lay down fully, curling the blonde strands around his index finger. He'd never spent the night with a woman before and now he was a little angry at himself for enjoying this. How many _other_ men had touched this woman and lay beside her like this? He knew that taking this moral high ground was hypocritical, but it only applied to Her.

She was the most beautiful woman who had ever paid attention to him. He didn't want her to have faults. He wanted her to be perfect. He ran his thumb over the soft skin of the side of her face. He wanted so much from her and he couldn't take it when she fell short of his expectations.

He also hated the men she chose to fuck around with. Couldn't she see that they just thought of her as a cheap piece of ass? It was bad enough that she used them to further herself in her education and career. She'd even told him once that she didn't really like sex, she just _Had_ sex. After he'd taken up doing her homework as an attempt to keep her from doing anyone else, he'd learned about sex addiction.

Imagine that, she was addicted to something he hated.

The men who angered him the most suffered the consequences of messing around with something that wasn't theirs. She belonged to _Him_. She knew it and yet she still screwed around and inevitably he would have to _fix_ her mistakes.

He was just beginning to close his eyes again when a knock sounded on the door. He squeezed his eyes tightly and let out a low growl. Harley stirred beside him and let out a soft groan. The knock came again and the Joker leapt from the bed and stormed over to the door, throwing it open.

"What?" He snarled. The startled man took a few steps back and looked to either side of him, presumably for escape. The Joker took a step toward him and straightened his full height, towering over the man and glaring at him.

"It's, um, five, Boss?" The man stammered. The Joker looked at his watch and confirmed the time and stepped back into the room, slamming the door behind him. The idiot had probably lost a drawing of straws or rock, paper, scissors to be the unfortunate one to wake him up.

He flipped on the light switch and saw Harley cover her eyes with her hands on the bed. She blinked and looked around, confused by her surroundings. Her hair was a mess. He stepped toward her and clapped his hands loudly.

"Time to get up, Doll!" He chimed. She rubbed her eyes and shifted uncomfortably on the mattress.

"Mister J, I'd ask you to have sex, but I'm afraid this Thing would snap shut and kill us both." She grumbled. "Can we get one of those guys to bring the bed over from my place?" He chuckled and slapped her hard on the ass.

"Get up, _Doc_tor, we have work to do. It's going to be another long day for Team Joker." He laughed.

ANANANANANANANAN

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews guys!

If you Like it and You Know it...


	8. Just Like Me, Only Beautiful

**This Parody of Life**

**Just Like Me, Only Beautiful**

Harley followed the Joker through one of the back entrances of Gotham General Hospital. She was dressed in her black suit once more with her ID tag in place on her lapel. She felt dirty and knew she smelled, was even paranoid about it as if she were permeating a stench like "Pigpen" in the old Peanuts comics.

The Joker was dressed in a maintenance uniform with his hair tucked beneath a ball cap. Once she'd seen him dressed she _knew_ she'd seen him at work, on many occasions. Someone had even mentioned 'that poor sad guy with the unfortunate scars.' _How long had he been watching her?_

Harley pinched the bridge of her nose and felt her stomach growl angrily. She was dirty, tired and hungry and getting really bitchy. He'd told her so. She spied the locker room and diverted to it, opening the swinging door with a loud slap from the palm of her hand. The Joker stopped in his tracks and glared back at her.

"What are you _doing_, Harley?" He seethed. She stared back at him indignantly.

"I'm going to take a shower." She spat, he opened his mouth to speak and she waved him away. "No, don't worry about it, Mister J, I'll check in on Harvey, don't despair!" He stared after her for a moment longer before continuing down the hall.

She stormed into the sanctuary muttering, 'bastard,' and pulled a pair of fresh scrubs off the rack before stripping for her shower. The people she normally worked with were on the other side of the hospital and if she were lucky she wouldn't see any of them that morning. She'd missed work for the past three days and knew she had to have a hundred messages on her machine.

Well, she was there now.

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The Joker slipped into the first machine room he came to and locked the door behind him. He strode over to the elevator generators and slid between them and the wall until he found what he was looking for.

The small bomb was still where he'd placed it and he checked the display to verify it was still lit and the wires were undisturbed. One down, twenty-three to go.

He'd sent some of the others down to the ferry terminals to finish loading the fuel barrels and bags of ammonium nitrate into the two boats. Later he would head there himself to make sure everything was wired properly.

He'd been working on these plans for six months, gaining access to secured areas and placing explosive devices, undetected. Gotham General had been the biggest challenge as he'd had to set up so many small bombs and returned only to find that some idiot had thrown some of them in the garbage right next to where he'd placed them. Part of him _had_ wished that the bombs had gone off then, if only to remove a few more sheep from the gene pool.

Seriously, who threw dynamite in the trash?

He grabbed his tool box and left the room to head off to the next area while hoping that Harley didn't screw around in the shower too long. He shook his head and wondered once more if he should have killed her last afternoon.

One of the small perks to the Gotham General job had been that he'd seen her again. She was working with the crazies, of course, but she was there nonetheless. Seeing her those evenings had been the highlight of his day. He opened the door to a stairwell and started down.

'What? The Highlight of his day?' He must be going as crazy as everyone else thought he already was.

At least Harley had provided him with a diversion that was even more amusing than the one he'd come up with. The Idiot who thought he worked for Batman. The Joker smiled as he opened the basement door.

He hadn't checked out Mr. Reese yet and had initially thought the whole idea was bullshit. After thinking on it the previous evening though; it started to make some sense.

He'd never seen Bruce Wayne the night he'd crashed Harvey's soiree. He had initially believed that Harvey Dent really was Batman and the fact that he wasn't had been nagging at him for the past few days.

Batman had to be _someone_. Even _He_ had been someone, once. The thought that Batman was Bruce Wayne had been crazy, and then it had made him laugh. It was hilarious, because it was probably true. That afternoon he would know for certain.

Until then, it was the final set-up. As much as it made his skin crawl, he would send Harley to meet Mr. Reese and use her feminine wiles to charm the idiot into following through with his plan.

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Harley pulled on her scrubs and a lab coat to which she affixed her credentials. She ran her fingers through her damp, blonde mop and twisted it into a sloppy bun. She finished off the look with her glasses and headed off to meet Harvey Dent.

She rarely left the psych ward so going to the burn unit was a new experience for her. She wasn't impressed. There were two guards hanging around the District Attorney's room and a quick smile and the simple grab of his chart had allowed her access to the burned man.

No wonder the Joker had managed to load this place up with explosives. The only real guards they had were upstairs in the psych ward, the only truly secured area. The others were all window dressing.

Harvey Dent was asleep and she quietly stood over him as she read his chart. His face was horrifying. He made the Joker look like Heath Ledger. 'Come to think of it,' Harley flipped to the next page of the chart.

The guy wasn't even accepting skin grafts. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. So he _was_ going the Joker route of self-healing. Stubborn men, they were both insane.

"Doctor Quinzel?" One of the guards called. She turned to them and smiled as Commissioner Gordon entered the room with another Doctor. The physician eyed her warily.

"Doctor Quinzel, this is Commissioner Gordon." The man said as the cop extended a hand. She took it and he gently shook it. She'd met the new Commissioner on a few occasions and he'd always seemed like a nice guy. It was a shame that they were now playing on opposite sides.

"Dr. Hartley asked me to come down and have a look at Mr. Dents' chart. You know, because of the refusal of treatment and painkillers?" She smiled and nodded knowingly with the men. "It may be necessary to have Dr. Arkham come down to speak with Mr. Dent. He's a very good psychiatrist and it would be such a shame to see a great man succumb to greater illness when it is completely treatable."

Yeah, she knew her shit.

She looked up and saw the Joker standing against the wall opposite the door and wondered for a moment what would happen if she were to alert the Commissioner to his presence. She stifled a laugh as she passed the chart and exchanged goodbyes before joining the 'terrorist' in the hallway.

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Harley obediently followed him back to the car and he slid behind the wheel and looked over at her waiting outside the passenger door, waiting for him to unlock it for her. He smiled as the thought of driving off and leaving her there came into his mind. He started the engine.

Harley started and looked confused at him through the window. She tried the door handle only to find the door was still locked. She frowned in at him and knocked on the glass. He chuckled and put the car into drive and starting to pull into the narrow alley.

Harley leapt from the curb and fell against the side of the car as he braked hard. She pounded on the window with a small fist.

"Hey! What the hell?" Her muffled cry came through the window. Joker couldn't hold it in any longer and started laughing as he let off the brake and the car rolled forward a few more feet. He braked again to the sound of harder pounding and swears coming from the woman outside.

He repeated the process two more times before finally reaching across to pop the lock and a furious Harley hurled herself into the passenger seat.

"What the hell was that?" She yelled; her heart shaped face screwed into an expression of anger and disgust. Joker put the car back into park and laughed hard for a few minutes, beating on the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

At the prompt of a horn blast from behind them, he wiped tears from his eyes and put the car into drive once more, braking hard twice again to piss off the driver behind them. He grinned conspiratorially at the angry woman beside him who crossed her arms and sat back sharply in her seat, looking away from him.

"You loved it and you know it." He cackled at her, checking the rearview mirror to see the other driver's face. She drew a deep breath and blew it out.

"Do you want to know what I do?" She asked mockingly. Joker rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Later." He said. "It's time to get you tarted up for your date with Mr. Reese, Pumpkin." Harley's eyes widened as she jerked her head toward him.

"Did you just call me, Pumpkin?" She asked incredulously. Joker smiled satisfactorily to himself and kept driving. Harley sighed and reached into the back seat for the few articles of clothing she'd put there.

Joker glanced over as he drove, watching the lamest striptease he'd ever seen. She pulled off her lab coat and tossed it into the backseat along with her shirt, exposing her breasts in a green lace bra. She wiggled into a dark green silk blouse and carefully did the buttons before tugging off her pants, exposing her slender white legs and green lace panties.

Joker tried to keep his eyes on the road and Harley wasn't helping by pulling on a dark grey pencil skirt and black open-toed heels. Harley shook her blonde hair out of its bun and ran her fingers through it.

Joker looked away as she began applying her lipstick and kept his eyes glued to the road until they reached their destination, some coffee shop with a lame pun for a name. He hit the brakes so hard the tires squealed and Harley threw both hands against the dashboard to brace herself.

"Who the hell taught you to drive anyway?" She snapped as she shoved open the door. He glanced out the window for a moment watching her walk away with an audible clicking of her heels on the pavement.

He pulled into a parking lot and waited a few minutes before exiting the vehicle to watch his harlot at work in the coffee shop.

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Harley tore open the door to the small shop and then remembered herself and took a deep breath to settle her nerves as she stepped into line. She glanced about and didn't see Coleman Reese anywhere. She then looked up at the clock above the clerk and saw she was a full fifteen minutes early.

'Damn you, Jack, you obsessive compulsive control freak!' She thought as she drew another settling breath. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to fight the dull ache behind her eyes. She couldn't wait to get some coffee and a muffin, a cheeseburger and extra large pepperoni pizza in her.

She took a seat and tore a piece off her blueberry muffin and popped it into her mouth, savoring the taste. Much better than the tuna and crackers that the Joker kept around that shit-hole warehouse.

She glanced at the clock again and ignored the Joker when he entered the small shop and took a seat somewhere behind her. To think that the man could still walk around unnoticed was amazing. He always did have that quality; it was part of what made him so successful in his endeavors.

'Focus, Harley. Get in the game you're here to charm that idiot onto the six o'clock news.' She drummed her fingers on the table and thought about how much the Joker had to hate this situation.

"Hi there!" A smiling Coleman Reese chimed taking a seat across hers. "Am I late?" She forced a smile. 'No, the Joker has an irrational fear of being late to ANYTHING!'

"No, I just got here a few minutes early." She replied sweetly. "You never can tell with the bus." They chuckled uncomfortably and he put on a serious face.

"So, are you okay, Harley?" He asked; his voice thick with concern.

She knew he was looking at the bruises on her neck. She was counting on it. The Joker had his idea about what she should tell this man. But he didn't know men like she did. No, to get this man to do what they wanted she had to make him feel like a hero.

She blinked a few tears which did seem to come naturally.

"Remember what you said yesterday?" She asked, her blue eyes searching his meaningfully. "About how you never really know people, like our bosses until something happens that forces their hand."

Yeah it had really been that lame. He leaned closer and put a hand over hers. She spoke without flinching.

"I work for the Joker." She said in a small, frightened voice.

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Harley sat down on the futon to pull on her boots and tie the long laces. Her meeting with Coleman Reese had gone over exactly how she'd wanted it to, with the exception of the Joker throwing his cup against the wall breaking it because Mr. Reese dared touch her in front of him.

They hadn't discussed that afterward in the car. They hadn't really said anything at all. He just asked if Reese was going to go through with the plan and she nodded in response.

Neither of them were about to bring up how his weird jealousy had nearly blown it.

'He really called me Pumpkin,' she thought and that sickening feeling balled in her stomach again as it had when the words had escaped his lips. She felt a tear escape the corner of her eye and roll down the side of her face.

He was going to punish her forever.

She shuddered as she heard that voice from the darkness, thick with an Italian dialect laughing. She could even feel the cold steel muzzle of the gun shoved hard against the back of her head as she held the knife in her trembling hand. It the one _He_ now used.

"Oh, you'll tell me what I want to know, or I'll have your little _girlfriend_ here carve you like a 'Jack'-O-Lantern." That voice snarled cruelly as the man waggled his eyebrows at Harley and licked his lips at her suggestively.

She gasped and shot to her feet as the door suddenly opened and closed with a loud crash.

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Joker finished applying his face paint and washed his hands in the dirty basin in the locker room of the warehouse. He stepped to the row of hooks on the wall and removed his topcoat from where it hung and pulled it on, straightening it into place. He'd allowed Harley to change in the office while he'd come down here. It had been quiet, the rest of the help having not yet returned from the Ferry Terminal.

Quiet was a small luxury he'd hardly had in the past few weeks. Everything was quickly falling into place and he had to be there each step of the way in order to ensure that his plans followed through. It was exhausting.

Adding Harley to the equation had not helped matters any. The woman had been a walking headache since the moment he set foot in her apartment. Had it really only been two days before?

He glanced at his grim visage once more before exiting the comparatively small room to the cavernous storage space. He didn't like it there. It was too open and that alone opened up a whole world of risk for his operation.

They wouldn't be in the space for very long. He was about to close up shop here and that evening go home for the first time in a month.

He climbed the grated metal stairs to where the office was and suddenly remembered _her_. What would he do with her? Send her back to her apartment? Kill her? He felt another headache coming on.

Without the politeness of a knock, he threw open the door to the office and stepped inside to face his newest source of torment. He abruptly stopped where he stood and stared at her as the door slammed shut behind him.

She started at his rude entrance and her blue-eyed gaze fell upon his face as she picked up a small, black hooded jacket from the torture device he'd been sleeping on.

She was beautiful. He felt the alien warmth of arousal pass through him as he approached her.

She stood still as he crossed the room and circled her, taking in all of her.

She wore a corset pattered with alternating deep red and black across the front and back where it was tightly tied with black laces. The garment shaped her beasts in a pleasing way, the tops slightly ballooning above it. They were accentuated by the plain black leather collar around her neck with small silver chains in different lengths which hung all around her slender neck.

His eyed trailed downward to the short black vinyl shorts she wore with a pattern of three diamonds on both sides of her rear. He slid a hand across her backside and held her hip as he glanced at the black fishnet stockings which disappeared beneath the heavy black military boots which came to an end high above her ankles.

He placed his free hand on her other hip and pulled her closer to him. He gazed at her white face and black lips and the black mask painted around her eyes. Her blonde hair pulled into girlish pigtails. She was perfect with the exception of the trail of a tear down the left side of her face.

His Harley Quinn, _MINE_, a darker voice within snarled.

He looked at her sad expression and slid his hands up her sides, pulling her roughly against him.

"Why So Serious?" He asked playfully before he crushed his mouth against hers.

Moments later a knock came on the door and Joker pulled away from her, pushing her as he did and glared at the door and then his watch. His gaze fell on Harley's amused expression.

"What?" He snapped. A mischievous smile played on her lips.

"I think you've smeared your lipstick." She giggled.

How they laughed together.

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The office door opened and The Joker appeared Harley Quinn trailing just behind, the couple joined by the hand. By this time Pete had retreated down the stairs and had joined the rest as the clowns made their way to their troops, such as they were.

Pete drew a breath in surprise as he took in Harley Quinn's appearance. She was hot, in a strange demented clown way. But he imagined that was how The Joker liked it. She was strange and he'd observed the woman's peculiar transformation over the past day. This was what she was really like and now he was certain that she was 'off-limits.'

"Let's go boys." The Joker said, glaring at the goggle-eyed men with disapproval.

They quickly fell in line and headed outside to the two waiting white panel vans which they piled into the backs of. Packed in like sardines. 'Clown Cars' someone had called them days before.

The Joker and Harley Quinn filed in last, dragging handcuffed and gagged Lau in with them. The Joker allowed the man to step up into the van and then cruelly shoved him to the floor before them, kicking the man as he climbed in. The Joker turned and extended a hand to the waiting Harley Quinn and gently helped her in before pulling the doors shut behind them.

The Joker and Harley Quinn sat down on the floor together and she nestled up against his side. He pulled out a deck of cards from his coat pocket and held one up with its back facing her.

"Eight of Clubs," she said. The Joker shook his head and whipped the card at Lau before kicking the man in the ribs.

As the game went on, Pete understood why the car had been covered with cards the day before.

"Three of Diamonds," Harley said touching her lips with her index finger as if deep in thought. The Joker smiled and nodded as he folded the card and slid it into her corset between her breasts.

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Killing with grace was how he would come to think of it. He watched Harley Quinn whirl about like a dervish and deftly sink the claw of a hammer into the head of one of the Chechen's men.

When the mob bosses men were all down, he pulled Harley against him and they watched the burning tower as one billion dollars went up in smoke before them.

"If only we had some marshmallows." She said looking up at him, her eyes shining in the light of the flames.

He wiped a spot of blood from her face with his thumb and kissed his girl.


	9. My Pain, Your Thrill

**This Parody of Life**

**My Pain, Your Thrill**

"I always wanted a dog." He said kneeling on the pavement as he stroked the dog's mangy fur. The animal's whines grew quieter as he ran both his hands over the head and neck of the animal.

He smiled at the animal and scratched its head, behind its ears and pinched the animals cheeks, making it look as if it were smiling. Harley's stomach was in knots and she could barely watch him with the animal.

"That's a good boy." He whispered as he raised the dogs' front leg, eliciting a small yelp. He released the limb and went back to his careful petting, talking to the dog in a small, childlike voice.

"My father forbade it though. He didn't think I was responsible enough to care for an animal." He said to Harley as he continued scratching the animal behind its ears.

She felt his eyes on her and turned to meet his fixed gaze. Her blue eyes filled with tears as his dark ones regarded her.

"I think people who do this," he said gesturing to the animals' ruined body "are the truly irresponsible ones." He petted the dog with his right hand as he used his left to retrieve his gun.

"I think he'd be proud to see just how responsible I am." He said. Harley squeezed her eyes shut and jumped as he pulled the trigger.

Years later she watched the same man, albeit now dressed as a clown, playing with a pair of dogs he'd "rescued" from the Chechen drug lord. He rocked back where he sat as he wrestled one of the dogs to the floor and laughed like a little boy.

This time Harley smiled as she watched the man with the large rottweilers. They had quickly parted allegiance with their former master and had taken to the Joker. He looked up at her and gestured for her to join him. She did so, hesitantly as she squatted on the floor and the Joker whipped her about, pressing her back to his chest as he moved her hand to the neck of one of the animals.

At first she was frightened, but relaxed slightly as she felt the rumbling of low laughter from the man behind her.

"They can smell fear, like me." He growled in her ear before giving the lobe a quick, playful bite. A laugh came from within and then Harley found herself playing with the dogs with her clown.

A check of his watch ended their 'Dog Party' and he hauled Harley up to her feet by her right elbow.

"Okay, gorgeous. It's time to leave the kids with the sitter and go to work." He said chuckling.

There was no sitter.

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Harley reapplied her black lipstick, using a dirty broken window for a mirror. She'd fixed her pigtails and washed off her whiteface and had only applied black mascara and eyeliner to go with her lips. She figured it would be enough, Joker was the star of the show and she was merely his assistant.

Their costumed roles, however, had been reversed as she soon found out as she walked into the small anteroom to find him pulling a cheap red wig over his green hair. She couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"What?" He snapped angrily as he turned to glare at her. She covered her mouth with her hand and snorted once again before steeling herself and stepping toward him.

"I always loved a man in uniform." She said gesturing at his tall body, clad in a nurses' uniform. Despite himself he smiled and she playfully bit her lower lip.

"So, uh, tell me. Is that a detonator in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" She asked in a seductive voice as she finished closing the distance. She slipped her hands up his chest to the sides of his face and rose to the tips of her toes as she kissed him. She pulled away and looked into his eyes.

"Happy Birthday, Puddin'." She said in a low voice.

His eyes changed and his lips twisted as he snarled at her and threw her to the ground. He kicked her in the stomach and she doubled over with a gasping cry as he stepped over her.

She rolled onto her back, clutching her stomach and turned her head to look at him. He had stopped a few feet from her and was clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Funny you should mention that." He said in a low voice thick with anger. She closed her eyes and blinked tears from her eyes.

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Harley leaned her back against the table and thrust the small object out toward him.

"Happy Birthday, Puddin'." She said cheerfully. He looked at the cupcake with a lit candle in it and then at her.

"So it is." He replied and carefully took the pastry from her and set it on the table before him. He briefly glanced at Harley before blowing out the candle. She giggled and squirmed her way between him and the table to sit on his lap.

"So, what did you wish for?" She asked, slipping her arms around his neck. She drew close to him and then gasped as he shoved her from his lap to the floor. She looked up at him, dejected, as he stood and crossed the room to the duffle full of equipment.

"Jack?" She said, sounding a little whineier than she had intended too. He shook his head as he focused on the contents of the bag.

"We've been over this, Harley." He said in a low voice. A wave of disappointment washed over her as he rejected her once again. She had her place, and it wasn't with him.

She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees as she watched him. That sinking feeling hit her once again and she drew a breath.

"I don't think we should do this tonight." She blurted. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her sharply.

"Why?" He asked, focusing his dark eyes on hers.

"I have a bad feeling about this job." She said, feeling nervous about her own intuition and his reaction to it. "I don't think we should go." He shook his head and went back to what he was doing.

"I don't pay you to _think_." He snapped at her. She slapped her thigh in frustration and crossed the room to stand over him.

"Damn it, Jack! You know I wouldn't say anything if I didn't think there was something to it." She cried.

"I think you just want to stay here and try to screw me and you're pissed off that I'm not into you." He said dismissively. She winced and sighed.

"This has nothing to do with how I feel about you." She said. He glanced up at her and then gradually stood, taking her elbow in his hand and squeezing it gently.

"What, then?" He asked, exasperated. "What has your 'women's intuition' tingling or whatever it does?" She met his gaze.

"I don't trust Tony. I think he's up to something and he's setting us up." She said seriously. He just laughed in response.

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The back doors of the van were opened and they were unceremoniously dumped onto the ground, along with their three accomplices. All of them still wore their masks. Harley looked at Jack and saw he was watching two men on the other side of the room. The two of them turned to the gang and headed their way.

Harley inched closer to Jack, but he nudged her back and looked at her. Even through his mask he easily conveyed his orders to her. She followed him to the wall that three men with guns kindly directed them too and sat down against it.

The stocky man with greasy hair and a thick Italian accent addressed them.

"Which of you is Jack?" He said surveying the lot.

Harley glanced at Jack through the corner of her eye as he silent stared forward. She then looked back up at the men standing before them. The Italian man pointed at her.

Instantly she was jerked to her feet and thrown to the ground before the Italian grease ball. The man beside him kicked her hard in the stomach and she let out an involuntary cry as all the air was knocked from her body.

"What the?" A voice said as Harley watched stars dance before her eyes. She felt a body land hard on top of her as she fought for breath. She heard the sounds of struggle and when she was finally able, saw two men holding Jack by his arms and shoulders as he wrestled against them. One of them was still wearing his clown mask. Tony. She heard the sound of metal as his knife clattered to the ground.

"Jack." She gasped in a barely audible voice. She heard the Italian man laughing and felt the clown mask tug as it was torn from her face. Above her she saw the greasy Italian.

"So, what is this?" He laughed, a little too amused. "Jack and Jill?" He laughed at his own bad joke and surveyed the others who then forced laughs of their own. He looked between Jack and Harley and then motioned to his men to remove Jack's mask.

He approached Jack and stooped over to pick up the fallen blade.

"So, Jack. It seems that you have something of mine." The man said with mirth. Jack nodded.

"Likewise." He said glancing at Harley as someone grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet. She cried out and Jack struggled against the two men holding him again.

"I just want what is mine, Jack. You seem like a reasonable man, certainly not _stupid_." The other man continued. "You don't even have to get it for me. I have guys for that. Just tell me where the money is."

"I don't have it." Jack said, staring holes through the Boss. The man snorted and waved his hand at the man holding Harley. The grip tightened in her hair and she felt the cold metal of a gun hitting her temple. She winced in pain and bit her lip hard enough that it began to bleed. The muzzle of the gun was then shoved against the tender spot it had created.

"You still not have it?" The Boss asked, irritation lurking in his voice as he addressed Jack. Jack merely nodded and then smiled and chuckled as he glanced at Harley. It was the first time she saw the Joker.

"Of course I don't." The voice of the Joker chided. "It's a little too much to be carrying around in a neighborhood like this. Lots of bad characters running around." He licked his lips and relaxed into his stance.

"You some kind of Joker, huh? Funny man? Well, I'll show you funny." He said and turned toward Harley and motioned for the man holding her to bring her forth.

The gun shoved itself against the back of her head as she was marched toward Jack who was shoved to his knees by order of the Boss. The whole event seemed surreal in her mind as she was halted just before Jack and the Boss thrust Jack's knife into her hand.

"Oh, you'll tell me what I want to know, or I'll have your little _girlfriend_ here carve you like a 'Jack'-O-Lantern." The Boss snarled cruelly as the man waggled his eyebrows at Harley and licked his lips at her suggestively.

Harley looked at the Boss in shock and a blow to the back of her head and a yank of her hair returned her gaze to Jack's calm expression.

"Go ahead, Jill. Put that knife in your boyfriend's mouth." Hot tears rolled down Harley's face as she looked at Jack. He smiled at her, that creature lurking in his eyes, waiting to be released. He opened his mouth and leaned toward her.

Harley closed her eyes as a hand guided her hand forward. Suddenly someone else was holding her from behind, His hand wound through her hair, pulling it hard while his foul breath blew across her neck.

The hand seized hers hard and she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her hand moving and sawing through the skin and muscle of Jack's face. She screamed.

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In a dreamlike state, Harley found herself standing before Jack as she carefully sutured his skin together. It was like sewing, only terrible. She'd cut an uneven path through this man's face and now she was putting it back together.

He stared at her as she worked and she wished he would close his eyes. His penetrating gaze and dark circles around his eyes made the bleeding red gashes even worse to look at.

She sobbed as she worked and dabbed his face with gauze to clean the skin as she moved along. The worst part had been when she'd had to cauterize his wounds using a lighter and a bobby pin.

He couldn't talk, just stare. And he did through the whole process. How long it had taken she could not remember. She did know that it was the hardest thing she had ever done, just as cutting him had been the worst.

When it was over, she had slumped to the floor beside him where he lay on the couch. She leaned against the seat and lay her head on the cushion beside him and wept. His hand was gentle as it stroked her head while Jack quietly passed away.

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She spent the next four days taking care of the thing that had hidden behind Jack's eyes for as long as she had known him. He didn't have a name yet, but he wouldn't acknowledge her when she called him Jack.

He was the Clown that Jack had told her about, brought to the surface by the smile fixed on his face. He was livelier, almost animated in a way Jack hadn't been. His eyes seemed darker yet shone bright with an inner madness.

On the last day he told her he was 'The Joker.' Then he'd told her to leave. Not his sight, nor the apartment, but 'The Narrows.' He was convincing.

Two days later at her friend Pamela's place, Harley saw the GCN coverage of the fire which consumed her old apartment building.

A hand grasped her arm and roughly hoisted her up to her feet. She looked warily up into the Joker's face, now painted over the terrible scars she had given him. He shook her arm loose and pulled a cell phone from his shirt pocket.

"It's time to go, Harley." He said; his voice almost conversational as he dialed a number.


	10. I Don't Want to Fade Away

**This Parody of Life**

**I Don't Want to Fade Away**

Dawn found Harley sitting beside the water, staring back at the building. It seemed wrong that it still stood, mockingly in the morning light. She wished that it had fallen like a house of cards as everything else in her world had fallen apart.

She rubbed her left thumb against the key in her palm as she scratched one of the dogs behind the ears who lay beside her on the ground whining in a low tone. Another tear rolled down Harley's face as the stab of pain hit her square in the chest. She had failed him, again.

Her love, her Joker.

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"Oh, Harleen," her father scoffed throwing a glance at his oldest daughter. The other people playing dress-up for her father's fancy soiree looked her way.

"She's a gymnast." He chuckled giving her an off-look. "It did get her a scholarship to Gotham University. She wants to be a doctor, but we think she should stick with the gymnastics. Maybe even go to the Olympics" he chuckled slightly and his guests smiled at her.

She nodded her head to them and then faded into the background once again. She was white noise when she wasn't on the mat. Something that is there and you can see and hear but ultimately ignore.

She picked up a glass of champagne and downed it like a champion she would never be. Yes, she was an excellent gymnast but what she really wanted was to be taken seriously, by anyone.

She didn't know why, but her father always hated her. Out of his four children, she was the one singled out for ridicule. She didn't know why. She was pretty and talented and yet could never seem to get through the wall her father had built between them.

She knew it was the basis behind her promiscuity. Harley deeply desired attention and affection. So she sought it through sex which was ultimately unsatisfying to her. She got the brief attention and physical affection, but something was missing. Love? She didn't believe in it.

At least she didn't until she fell in love with Jack.

The day he came into her life she walked right past him as he stood on the front steps of their apartment building, smoking a cigarette. She'd been living there for a month and had seen him standing there many times at that time. She decided it was when he got home from work.

She nodded at him while he ignored her and continued staring into the middle distance, lost in whatever he was thinking about.

She had recently started medical school and was very proud of herself. Especially now that she was making it on her own after her father had cut off her funds. She'd had to make a lot of sacrifices and moved into her crappy apartment in 'The Narrows.' She was succeeding on her own, albeit on a very tight budget. She would be paying off loans for the rest of her life.

She approached the wall of metal mailboxes and dreaded her usual onslaught of bills and junk mail. Her key clicked in its lock and she opened her mailbox. She stared dumbfounded as she gently touched her mail with the tip of her index finger. Every piece was wedged between her box and the one for 4J.

She started at the sound of someone clearing their throat and turned and started again as the man on the steps was standing right behind her. His hard eyes moved between her and the mail stuck between their boxes. She chuckled a little to calm her nerves.

"Yeah, it's been happening for a couple of days, but this is the worst it's ever been." She said rubbing the back of her neck. He regarded her curiously and then pulled a knife from his pocket.

Her eyes widened as a blade shot out of the front of the handle and he rudely pushed past her.

'What is this guy doing?' She thought, starting as he shoved the blade into the keyhole at the top of the mailbox frame. She had heard a lot of rumors about this guy and none of them had been good.

The lock clicked and he pulled the frame open and her mail slid down, free from its confines. He grabbed it and slammed the frame shut again and shoved it at her. She cautiously accepted it as he retraced the knife blade and pocketed the weapon again.

"Thank you, um," she said trying to remember his name.

"Jack." He replied bluntly. She smiled at him and he stared back at her. He was tall and handsome and a little scary, with deep brown eyes and short wavy dirty-blonde hair.

"Thank you, Jack." She said.

"You're welcome, Harleen." He nodded and then turned away and headed up the stairs. She looked after him puzzled as she hadn't told him her name. Later she realized that he had set the whole thing up.

He was good at making and following through with plans, although she didn't always understand them. Everything he did had a purpose, even if you didn't immediately see it. Little things add up in the big picture.

She had a number of strange run-ins with Jack as their strange relationship came together. Every one of them was set up by him. He had controlled every aspect of the meeting of their lives. Why he'd chosen her, she would probably never know. But he had chosen her and as planned had fallen madly in love with him.

Why she loved him was something she never asked herself. He wasn't the nicest person in the world when she met him and as she got to know him she learned about his true nature.

Still, she was fascinated by him and it was why she'd chosen to become a psychiatrist. Just as much as becoming a doctor had become about proving her father wrong, she thought that understanding the human mind could bring her and Jack closer together. Maybe he would even love _her_ someday.

He didn't fulfill his end of the deal of their love affair, but being close to him was enough for Harley. She could always pretend with the other men she had sex with that they were him. What was important was that he was there the rest of the time.

Over the years the walls between their homes seemed to melt away and they spent most of their time off together. They spent even more time together when she joined him in his criminal exploits.

It had been easy for her to accept his world, but she never questioned why. The why was the unfairness of the world they lived in? It was structured and cruel. His world was fair and free of confinement. She could be who she was inside. A person who she didn't realize even existed. He had found her and she fell in love with him because of it.

Together they would watch the world destroy itself, even if they had to help it on its way.

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"Paging Doctor Quinzel," his mocking voice said in her ear. She started and glared at him as he chuckled to himself in satisfaction.

"Yes." She replied sharply. He motioned at the hospital through the open doors of the van and stood and crouched as he exited the vehicle. Harley stood and followed him out as he gave the others a few last directions.

When they were on their way, he turned back to her and grasped her hand and began walking toward the hospital, taking her away with him.

"Now where is Mr. Dent again?" He asked through the surgical mask as they entered the hospital corridor. Panic and chaos reigned around them, but the couple didn't seem to notice as they made their way down the halls to the burn unit.

Two panicked uniforms were all that stood between them and the deformed District Attorney. A nurse managed to get one of the cops to follow her away as Joker and Harley followed the other into Dent's room.

Joker pulled his gun and shot the officer in the back of the head. The pair quickly slid moved the body over to a chair and concealed it behind a curtain before Joker sent Harley to join the others. He picked up Dents' chart and began to flip through it, waiting.

Harley corralled nearly thirty patients into a school bus with the help of the Joker's men. As a bonus, they had also netted GCN's own Mike Engel and his crew as they wandered too close to their vehicle.

A close observer would notice that the rear of the bus had sustained some damage a few days prior.

They enjoyed watching the panic on the faces of the crowd turn to horror as Harley pulled off her lab coat to reveal her costume and brandished one of the Joker's guns.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she began with a smile.

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The Joker hurried down the hallway as the explosions began behind him, inwardly cursing his 'good luck.'

The clean shiny head had come up.

That was the story of his life these days.

First Batman wouldn't kill him and now Harvey Dent didn't either. What did a guy have to do to get brutally murdered in this town? He laughed as he exited the front doors of the hospital.

He was far from suicidal, but wouldn't mind slipping into the sweet oblivion of death either. True, a part of him wanted to die, but that was the same part that had dragged him back to Harley's apartment after he escaped from the GMPD. It was the weak part. The part that not only wanted to die, but wanted to die with _Her_ there, probably to comfort him as he headed onto the other side.

Jack.

Sometimes he hated that guy. Other times he wished he could kill him. Like now. The Joker didn't want to just die he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. He wanted to die in a memorable way, one that would really affect people and they would remember.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back to the hospital.

'Why weren't the explosives going off? Did some idiot janitor screw with them again?'

He pulled the detonator out of his pocket and shook it before impatiently jamming his finger into the button again and again.

If his bombs didn't go off like he wanted them to, then there were going to be a lot of dead janitors in the City of Gotham.

He looked up as the bombs finally went off and smiled satisfactorily as he jumped into the back of the school bus where his men and captives were waiting.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here is the man of the hour, the Joker." Harley chimed as one of his men closed the bus' back door behind him. He surveyed the terrified people with a menacing smile as he made his way to the front.

Harley stepped aside so he could sit in the seat behind Hal, who began to pull away. The movement of the bus propelled Harley backward slightly and the Joker used the inertia to his advantage and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her down onto his lap.

"Looks like I've got the best seat on the bus," he purred into her ear. She looked at him and they laughed before the Joker crushed his mouth against hers.

Perhaps Jack was right about something after all.

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Mike Engel strained against his restraints even as the strange clown girl approached him. They were somewhere inside the Pruitt Building and he was tied to a chair in a small room with this woman and the Joker who was still wearing his ridiculous nurses outfit.

Mike winced as the girl dabbed his forehead with alcohol. She patted him on the shoulder.

"There, there Mister Engel. I'm just trying to make you look presentable for the masses." She chuckled.

Behind her the Joker scribbled furiously on several sheets of paper and then looked up and over at them. Mike could tell the Joker was watching the girl as she moved about dabbing him with alcohol and running her fingers through his hair to smooth it in place.

Other journalists would kill to be this close to the Joker, given the man were in a straightjacket and leg irons with three inches of bulletproof glass between them. Perhaps four inches. They wouldn't be happy to find themselves in his predicament, tied to a chair with duct tape slapped over their mouth while the Joker's girlfriend jabbed at them.

She had to be his girlfriend. It was the only way Mike could wrap his mind around it by the way the two of them had carried on together on the bus with God and everyone watching. And they hadn't cared.

There was no way were they married, no one marries _this_ guy. But then she had to be as crazy as or crazier than he was to be with him.

She was nice to look at. She moved gracefully about him, her thin barely clad body inches from him. Mike's eyes trailed over her, a momentary escape from the insanity he had fallen into. Until his eyes met the Joker's.

The Joker stormed across the room to them and grabbed the girl by the arm, wrenching her backward and she fell hard on the floor behind him.

"I think that's good enough, Harley." He spoke in a near growl as his eyes cut through Mike's.

Mike moved as far back into his chair as he could and then a little too far as the chair tilted backward and crashed to the floor. His head hit the hard floor and the Joker broke into hysterical laughter. A moment later the girl laughed with him.

In a haze, Mike saw the Joker help the girl to her feet and they stepped over and peered down at him, both still laughing. The Joker wrapped an arm around the girl's waist and she threw her arms around his neck. The Joker, much to Mike's surprise, held her body up with ease as her toes barely touched the floor in his one armed hold as they kissed. He was much stronger than he looked.

The Joker set his girl back on her feet and playfully swatted her ass.

"Okay gorgeous, go get the guys. I think we're ready here." The Joker said leering at Mike as he produced a knife.

Mike peed himself.

The Joker laughed harder than he had earlier.

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Harley looked through the glass into the dark abyss below them. Night had fallen and everything was in place. She stood at the top floor of the building, waiting for him to return.

She looked toward the ferry terminals to which he'd gone. 'One last thing to take care of' he'd said. Her stomach turned.

She had always been afraid of heights. Through the years she'd learned to tolerate them, up to the fourth floor. Anything beyond that and she was scared shitless, like she was now.

But the heights weren't all that made her uneasy. She watched the flashing lights illuminate the masses below as they fought to get onto the ferries, and off of the island.

"_Bad things are going to happen, nothing like you're used to."_

He'd said those words two days ago. Now they all stood atop the ground where it had all begun for the Joker. Where she'd cut his face and where he was going to kill all of those people because she had.

Hands grabbed her shoulders and his breath was in her ear.

"Boo!" She started backward into him and cried out, her eyes never leaving the depths.

"Are you still afraid?" He asked in a gentle yet mocking voice. Her answer was the tears which slid down the sides of her face.

He turned her around toward him and took her face in his hands, lifting it so she saw his face. His eyes searched hers from the depths of black pools. They could have stood there like that for hours, searching for something in one another and not knowing what for.

"I loved you, Harleen." He said quietly. She gasped and opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a hard slap.

She touched her face and dropped to her knees, not to avoid another blow but because her legs wouldn't hold her. She looked up at him while he shifted his weight from foot to foot, staring down at her.

_That_ look had returned to his face. It was that emotionless façade which hid his inner darkness, madness. The one that was truly dangerous.

"I didn't want to do it." She whispered. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet while she screamed.

"It doesn't matter if you did or didn't wan_t_ to. You _did_ this to me." He growled gesturing to his face before he punched her, sending her sprawling on the floor.

She cried out as he grabbed her by the hair again and she twisted her body around, pulling her knees back and then thrusting them into his stomach, knocking him to the floor.

She felt hair tear from her scalp as he fell and lost his grip on her and screamed, grabbing the part of her head which now bled. She rolled to her side and saw him moving as he regained his breath and leapt to her feet.

She did a handspring and landed with one foot on his stomach and he curled forward in pain and grabbed her ankle. He pulled hard and she fell onto him. She was in his grip and he rolled and slammed her to the floor, her head bounced as it hit and she saw stars. He laughed and she felt a spray of saliva on her face.

She threw a free hand at his head and tried to claw at his features but he caught her wrist and cruelly wrenched it and she cried out again.

"Oh Harley, I _love_ it when you scream." He growled like an animal as she fought against him. He twisted her wrist some more and she cried in agony.

"I've been waiting for this, _this_ moment." He said licking his lips while he tried to find the right words. He lowered his face to hers and she head-butted him and then tried to bite him. He laughed like the insane and stood, putting his hand on his forehead, his eyes wild.

She tried to twist herself out from between his feet but he had her again, pulling her up and dragging her toward the windows as she struggled against him. She saw the opening to the scaffolding outside and gasped, then bit his arm through his sleeve.

He dropped her and kicked her in the side and she curled around his leg and pulled him to the ground beside her. Then she was on top of him, desperately trying to get a hold of his throat.

He gripped her wrists in his hands and wrenched her already sore one and she screamed and fought to free her hands while he wrapped his legs around hers, pinning her to him. In a smooth motion, he rolled them over and lay on top of her.

They breathed hard, their breath hot on one another's face as he lowered his and gently pressed his lips against hers. His eyes stared into hers as he softly kissed her and then pulled his head back.

"I am _really_ going to miss you." He said and then quickly pulled her to her feet and then out onto the scaffolding.

"Jack!" She screamed as she felt her back hit the low railing and she tipped over.

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"So why are you in school?" A voice called in the night.

Harley nearly slipped off the edge of the railing of the fire escape she was balancing on. She grasped the rail and flipped herself back onto the metal grating before looking about wildly.

She saw the glowing embers of a cigarette a few feet away and focused her eyes on the shadow it belonged to.

"You're going to get cancer!" She spat angrily at the man called Jack whose face she could now make out in the darkness. He laughed.

"Or I could step out in front of a bus." He laughed. "A lot of ways a guy could die, you know."

She could think of one right now, 'her pushing him from the fire escape.' She frowned, 'why was she thinking things like that?'

"So, why are you in school?" He asked again. She stared at him dumbly for a moment.

"To be a Doctor." She replied.

"Really?" He asked, his voice sounding surprised. "You do acrobatics like that and you're going to be a Doctor?"

"It's not acrobatics!" She snapped. "It's gymnastics! And the two aren't mutually exclusive!"

"Whoa, touched a nerve." He said. She sighed loudly.

"I'm tired of being underestimated." She said to no one in particular. "_Daddy_ doesn't think I'm smart enough to be a Doctor. So I'm going to be a Doctor."

"Really? Hmm, I wanted to be a Circus Clown and my father forced me to be an Engineer." He said. She snorted.

"That's not funny!" She snapped.

"It wasn't a joke, Harley." He replied. She gave him a sideward glance.

"What did you call me?" She asked sharply.

"Har-lee," he said sounding out each syllable. She shook her head at him dismissively.

"You'd be a bad clown," she said, "you're not funny."

"Oh, you'd be surprised how funny I can be." He said in a low voice. "Hey, do you want to see a Magic trick?"

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Her eyes were closed tightly and she wondered if she would ever hit the ground.

Then she heard his laugh.

That cruel laugh he reserved for when he really enjoyed someone's pain.

She opened her eyes and saw the Gotham skyline upside down in front of her. She turned her head slightly to the left and saw the two ferries at the terminal so many stories below her.

She strained her neck to look up and saw him in front of her, between her splayed legs, holding onto the front of her shorts with one hand and her wrist with the other as he balanced her on the rail.

"Are you _still_ afraid, Harley?" He asked and winked at her before pulling her up and back onto the scaffolding.

Her knees buckled and she fell to the grating and she heard him giggling as he stooped to pull her up and walked her back inside.

"Boss?" A voice asked. They looked up to see four of the clowns come doctors standing in front of them all wearing startled expressions.

"Yesss?" The Joker hissed at them. His gaze dropped to see the leashed dogs the men had brought with them.

"Oh, that." He said and set Harley on her unsteady feet.

She looked at the men who removed the leashes from the dogs and allowed the animals to roam about and wondered how much of what just happened they had seen. From their expressions she could tell they'd seen it all.

"Why don't you go with the boys and get some air?" The Joker said. She glared at him and he put his hands up in defense and chuckled as she walked away.

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"You okay?" Hal asked after they had descended a few floors in the elevator, just in case the Joker could still hear them she was sure.

"Yeah," She sighed and rubbed the spot on her head where the blood was still drying. "Just one of those 'lover's quarrels.' I'm sure we'll be okay." She smiled at the driver as he eyed her warily and wound a leash up in his hands.

One of the others checked their watch as the elevator stopped at its destination and they all filed out. She surveyed the room and saw the 'clowns' lined up in the Joker's 'shooting gallery' as he'd called it.

She walked toward them and stopped a few feet short and observed the frightened people where they stood and shook with the weapons taped to their hands.

She wondered just when she'd become so indifferent to this. Some of the other men were scared, and had every reason to be. She was sure that all but Hal were telling them about what the Joker had just done to her.

And he had once loved her.

She shook her head at herself and smoothed her hair back. He'd only said that to, to what? He hadn't had any reason to say that. Was that how he had really felt? He loved her and stopped loving her because she'd cut his face?

No, he was much more complex than that. He told her what she'd wanted to hear. She'd wanted Jack to love her and it would make sense that he would hate her now after what she'd done.

The Joker did hate her.

She looked beyond the 'shooting gallery' and to the ferries below which were beginning to pull away from their berths.

It was almost Showtime.

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The Joker had come down to address them then, giving Harley a wink as he exited the stairwell. She supposed he had to do something with his manic energy since their fight hadn't been enough to wear him out.

He slid an arm around Harley as he gave the others their final instructions. Blah, blah, chances were damn good that the Batman would show up. Blah, blah keep him occupied. She smiled in spite of herself.

The Joker dismissed the others yet kept her in his embrace. She looked up at him and he smiled at her wearily. He was tired and seemed eerily calm. He reached into his pants pocket and then pressed something into her hand.

He pulled her close and tilted his face toward hers and then leaned to her ear, making sure she knew each of his moves were deliberate.

"I think you should stay down here." He said quietly. She felt the object in her hand with her fingers, it was a key.

"Should the worst happen," he breathed so that only she could hear, "go to fifty-two one-hundred and sixty-eighth. You understand?"

He drew back slightly and looked in her eyes. She nodded back and he smiled and patted her cheek.

"And if the worst doesn't happen?" She asked suddenly feeling nervous.

"Then you'll be going with me." He replied. They looked at one another for an uneasy moment before he kissed her again.

"Oh!" He said as if having an epiphany. He walked over to a bench and picked up a clown mask and came back over to her, thrusting the object toward her.

His mask.

"Looks like you get to wear one of these anyway." He leered at her as she snatched the mask from his hand and begrudgingly slid it over her head.

"I wouldn't say it's lucky, but it does look good on you." He laughed and she turned away and walked to the 'gallery.'

His laugh faded as he headed back upstairs.

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Nothing else that happened that night made any sense to Harley.

All she remembered with any clarity was watching him fall.

No one else seemed to see it happen. But as she turned away from the men fighting behind her toward the place where the window had been, she saw him fall.

And she was running and then falling to her hands and knees as she looked over the edge.

She didn't feel the broken glass cut her skin.

She didn't hear her own screams.

She didn't feel the hands which grabbed her from behind, pulling her back from the edge.

She fought back and returned to her place at the buildings edge, screaming to him.

The hands returned and then all was black.

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The dawn had come and Harley held her key and the note he'd given her. She smiled through her tears as the read the words to that old song he always hated.

'And if I Could Choose a Place to Die, it would be in Your Arms.'

Life is a funny thing.


End file.
